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#and w a tone that suggests she thinks its a hassle
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it's really funny rereading the early chapters of s-class heroine because ailette calls tesilid all sorts of names and it's such a far cry from her round 17 attitude
#tesilette#losing my mind at the way ailette is so so so fond and soft for tesilid now#she used to keep calling him high-maintenance and a pushover and other mildly but not really derogatory terms#and w a tone that suggests she thinks its a hassle#and now she's like#((ROUND 17 SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY))#when other transmigrators call tesilid annoying and cant believe shes trying to romance him#she just stays quiet and despairs on her own#and the. the. mermaid dungeon line#'i wish i could create a cabinet in my memories to store away his expression so i could look at it whenever i feel depressed or sad'#like GIRRRRL GIRLLLLLL WAAAAAHHHHHHH#falls onto the floor#anyway mimin examining ailette's character development era let's go?#like the way she KEEPS getting distracted and captivated by his looks. its so funny!!!!#and i dont rmb which chapter it is (prob mirror dungeon) but theres one whr she reflected that back at the very start#she wanted to be at the late stage loops so she could have an easier life#and now she's glad she's at round 17 bc it means she can spare tesilid all that pain#she will hard carry him if that's what it takes. she's been training ten years for this purpose#if thats not love idk what is....#like gngbfnghgnghgnghgnfhng yes she needs to be that strong anw if she wants to SURVIVE#but her narration is SO tesilid focused its crazy#(me trying to find info on hestio and ephael for my trio fics and finding next to NOTHING. thanks girl 😖👍)#like i dont even know how to put it into words bc#her love for tesilid permeates like every single goddamn word and i cant possibly analyse all that#idk... webnovels being sparse on the prose and description but#nonetheless having SO much packed into them... crazy. i love them webnovels#man. me being forced to write in tags bc its SO rambly like idk what goes on and how to explain it but AILETTEEEEE#like how is it that i get so much from rereading this one single story just by focusing on different characters' povs#this is a webnovel w like zero descriptions going on!!!
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forever-rogue · 4 years
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hi babes! could u do a javier peña x reader where the girl works w javi & steve and she and javi have been the closest friends ever but javi develops feelings for her and after he sees her back home from a date all happy he gets super jealous and finally decides to tell her he loves her and she says it back, something like that xx
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I love this so much 🥺 Enjoy 🥰💕
Javier x Fem!Reader; warnings: language
Javier Masterlist 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Its Friday night and Javi is bored. Not bored bored...but bored. The excitement of the week has left him buzzing with energy and he's not quite sure how to get it out. He's decidedly not going to the bar or to spend the evening with temporary company. No - that hadn't been his deal in some time...not since you. But he'd never admit that. Despite the fact that you knew - everyone knew. 
Instead, he comes up with the plan to do what the two of you often end up doing at the end of a hectic week - unwind with some bad television, cheap beer, and even cheaper pizza. Its become a bit of an unspoken tradition and you relish in it - both of you. Its a thing that's so easy, so effortless but fun for the both of you. 
So, he's at your door, pizza in hand and a six pack tucked under his arm knocking loudly. He's eagerly waiting, humming with nervous energy just at the mere thought seeing you. Javier wasn't sure when he'd turned from an experienced grown man to a nervous boy, but you always had that effect on him….and he didn't mind.
When you opened the door a few moments later, his jaw almost dropped as he took in the sight of you, looking more beautiful than anyone should be allowed to. You offered him a big smile, the one he most definitely fell in love with, when you looked him over. Your hair and makeup was done and your dress was enough to make him weak on the knees.
And then, as you put in your earrings, you realized you'd completely spaced on telling him that your weekly plan wasn't going to work tonight.
"Wow, you look beautiful-"
"Javi, tonight's not going to work-"
You both started at the same time. As soon as his words you hit your ears, a flush of warmth rose up in your face. Sure, he'd told you that you've looked nice before, but something about how he had just said it was...different. 
"Oh."
"Yeah," you offered him an apologetic look, "I'm so sorry, Javi. I completely forgot to tell you - it just happened so fast." 
"You...you have plans?" his face dropped slightly as you nodded, an odd wash of disappointment clouded over you. 
"I...I have a date," you were staring at your feet as he cleared his throat. Gods, you were already regretting this. But...but Javier had never asked and you weren't sure if he ever would and oh gods, the idea of asking him seemed impossible and this had seemed like a good distraction at the time. The almost painful look on Javier's face, quickly concealed into an emotionless mask was enough to make you regret your decision, "umm...Eric. He asked me out today."
"And you said yes."
"I said yes," you agreed with the accusation, "I wasn't thinking...I completely forgot its Friday and if I would have realized I wouldn't have said yes."
"No, don't worry about it. It's fine," the tone of his voice suggested that it was anything but fine. You were tempted to just stay in with Javi and cancel your plans. Maybe if either of you would finally just say something - anything, "you should definitely go out with Eric. It'll make his whole year. Have fun, Dulzura…"
"Javi," you tried to grab his free hand but he quickly pulled out of your grasp, the gesture harsh and biting, "Javier! I don't have to go…I can stay."
"And why would you do that?" he turned around, his eyes narrowed as he tried to get a read on you. It was a challenge - to see if either of you would willingly break. 
"You know why," you insisted firmly, wishing you could just say the words. But both of you were too steadfast and stubborn to give in, "say it and I'll stay. But I need you to say it."
"There's nothing to say," he said sharply, the slightest bit of crack to his voice, "have a good time. With Eric."
"Javi," you called after him, eyes stinging and threatening to spill over with unshed tears as he refused to turn back around and walked back to his own apartment. He couldn't have meant it...right? Surely he didn't… "Javier!"
He heard you. Of course he did. The whole building easily could have.
But he didn't stop. And you didn't go after him.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Eric was...nice. Kind, funny, charming, and handsome. He was everything a woman could dream of; you'd known him for a while and it was easy to see why someone would fall for him. When you got to the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, and ordered a nice bottle of wine. 
Conversation was polite - funny and flirtatious. Everything you'd expect on a date.
And yet...the whole time, your mind was absent. You were there, smiling and laughing at the appropriate times, but your mind kept wandering. No matter how much you wanted to like him….it all went back to Javier.
You didn't want Eric - you didn't want anything like him.
You wanted Javier. Him and only him. 
Even if he didn't want you, you were going to tell him. You couldn't keep up this silly little dance, skirting around the issue and never talking about it. You had to do this.
That's why you left the date early, making up a shitty excuse you were sure he could see through. You felt bad - he was nice, but you had to do this. 
As you ran into your apartment building, heels in hand, you were making a beeline for Javier's apartment. But instead of making it to his palce, you stopped when you spied a figure in front of your own door.
"Javier," you were breathless as you stared into this soft brown eyes. His gaze was locked onto yours as his chest and rose fell heavily.
"Dulzura," he reached for your hand and pulled you tightly against him, "fuck what I said earlier. Fuck Eric and whatever we've been doing. I-"
"I'm in love with you," you quickly cut him off, watching as a look of surprise crossed his features before a small tugged on the corners of his mouth, "you're a jerk and an asshole sometimes, but damn - I'm in love with you."
A hand tenderly went to your cheek as he watched you closely, his eyes searching yours as you just gently nodded at him. He slowly raised his other hand to your face, cradling it gently before crashing his lips onto yours. 
Finally. Finally. Finally.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close, carding a hand through his dark locks. The way he kissed you and you eagerly kissed back was like the two of you had done this a million times before. There was no awkwardness, no tension, no hassle - it just was. And it was utterly perfect.
Kissing Javier Peña was better than you could have ever dreamed. And after all this time it was finally a reality.
Your hand went to his shoulders and onto his chest as you slowly broke apart for a breath of air. He was looking at you in such a reverent manner, but his eyes were nervous - a quality you almost never saw in them. His warm, large hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned in for another kiss, this was soft and gentle before he chased your lips with a few of his own. You drank in the moment, nuzzling your nose against his as you felt him smile against your lips.
"Me too," he whispered softly, but paused when he realized this wasn't enough - he needed to do this properly, "I love you - I'm in love with you."
"Good," you beamed at him, making his heart melt. Gods, that how he knew this was right - no one had ever had this effect on him, not even his former fiancé, "this would have been awkward otherwise."
"Sorry for being such an asshole earlier," he grimaced at the thought of what could have happened if the two of you hadn't both suddenly hit a revelation, "I just…"
"I know," you shushed him by putting a finger to his lips, "I know. Maybe this is exactly what we needed - a push in the right direction."
"Yeah," he agreed, grinning gently at you, "I just...the thought of you with him made me...I hated it."
"I know," you nodded towards, "do you...do you want to come inside? Its Friday night after all."
"Hmm," he kissed your forehead, a knowing grin exchanged between the two of you, "I'd like that a lot, Dulzura."
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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roanniom · 4 years
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This made my day seeing your requests open!!
I’d like to please request some hot dominat Clyde action. We all know he’s a softy, but we all also know he’s capable of being a big and scary if he needs to. Thoughts on Clyde protecting you from something and then still being riled up with you after, in all the best ways? :)
Hiya anon! I was happy to write this for you. Fun story, what Clyde does (re: the beer bottle) in this story is actually something a bar tender did when defending me from a creep back in my college bar hopping days lol. I WISH it was Clyde who had done it. I would have loved to thank him. 😉
Out of Trouble
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Clyde Logan x Reader
Word Count: 2,730
Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, possessiveness, dirty talk 
You reassess the situation you find yourself in – by no means an unfamiliar one, but definitely out of the norm these days and wholly unpleasant all the same. The man currently harassing you at the bar is clearly not a local. First of all, you don’t recognize the handsy son-of-a-bitch. And secondly, everyone in town knew that you were Clyde’s girl.
You two had only recently made things official, but in a way, hadn’t you always been Clyde’s girl? Your best friendship had always been tinged with a sweetness that surpassed the roles of mere pals. Sure there was flirting, how could you resist with the way a properly timed tease or suggestive comment could make Clyde blush and stammer as if on command? But even more prevalent, and more obvious to the patiently waiting members of the town, was the ownership you both had of one another. People knew better than to hassle either of you, verbally, hypothetically, or otherwise, in the presence of the other. You had Clyde’s back and he had yours, each of you displaying a possessiveness that made others smirk and roll their eyes while hiding their jealousy. You had what they did not, and now that the two of you were finally dating, envy was a common emotion amongst regular Duck Tape patrons.
Something this creep clearly was not privy to it would seem as he reached out to caress your forearm, an action which you flinch to avoid.
“Come on, baby. Let me buy you a fucking drink,” he was saying at this point. He was getting more forceful and though you had previously been courteous in your refusals, you realize that it might be time to fight back. He swayed on his barstool before continuing. “Stop being such a bitch. What could one drink hurt?”
“Every bone in yer fuckin’ body,” comes a low, deep growl that makes both you and the creep look up to the swinging door behind the bar. Your heart swells with relief and other, undefinable emotions as Clyde stalks up, his massive body an intimidating figure as it looms over the other, weasel-y man, threatening even with the bar between them.
“W-what’s your problem?” the creep practically squeaks before clearing his throat and jumping up, trying to draw himself up to his full height, which just comes across as laughable. Of course, next to Clyde, any height would be laughable.
“My problem is yer comin’ onto m’girl. That’s my problem.” His tone is deadly quiet. That’s your Clyde, soft spoken, even as his flesh hand clenches and murder simmers behind his eyes.
“Look, she was sitting here all alone. In my book that makes a bitch fair game - ” the creep begins, but he doesn’t get much farther with his misogynistic diatribe because Clyde reaches over, grabbing a nearby customer’s almost empty beer. Grasping the bottle around the neck, Clyde smashes the bottle down against the edge of the bar. The barrel shatters with a loud crash that silences the din of the room and causes the neck of every patron to whip around for the source of the sound. Clyde stands before the creep brandishing the remaining shards of the beer bottle like a shiv.
“Here’s what yer gonna do,” Clyde says calmly, the violence of his actions not succeeding in raising the volume of his voice. “Yer gonna apologize t’ the lil lady fer troublin’ her, understand?”
The creep stares at Clyde, wide-eyed and panicked before nodding and turning to you hastily.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry –”
“Good,” Clyde says, cutting the guy off so that he can no longer address you. You eye Clyde as he waves the shattered bottle menacingly. He’s never looked bigger. Never looked darker. Never looked hotter. When he speaks again his voice is even lower, if that’s possible. “Now yer gonna get the fuck outta my bar.”
The creep is gone in a matter of seconds, running out the front door so fast you almost imagine his skeleton being left on the bar stool in his wake like some frightened cartoon character. Before you can look back up at Clyde, his large hand is encircling your wrist and yanking you toward to door to the back of the bar. You let yourself be pulled, barely registering how the conversation kicks back in, customers already basking in the aftermath of Clyde’s rare emotional outburst.
Once the door to Clyde’s office is safely shut behind you, Clyde pushed you to sit down on his couch while he paces back and forth in front of you. You’re bewildered by this response, unsure if you should say something so you remain silent, watching him. After a moment Clyde yanks a hand through his hair forcefully. You swallow and decide to finally speak up.
“Are you okay, Clyde?”
“I’m NOT fuckin’ okay,” Clyde replies and you’re shocked at the way his voice raises with his words. You’re suddenly worried he’s gotten the wrong idea and you’re quick to fold your arms defensively across your chest, your own voice rising.
“Hey, if you’re mad at me you should know it’s not like I encouraged that asshole.”
Clyde is quick to round on you, looking panicked.
“I didn’t say ya did. I know ya wouldn’t…ya’d never…” Clyde trails off into a growl and resumes his pacing, flesh hand clenching and unclenching.
“It’s over, Clyde,” you soothe now, switching tactics and lowering your own defenses. He’s clearly distressed and you’re not sure how to calm him. “He’s not the first and probably won’t be the last guy to bother me.”
“That’s what’s killin’ me, darlin’. What if I hadn’t walked out? What if ya were alone an’ this happened?”
“I can take care of myself, you know.”
“I know ya can,” Clyde says, voice more characteristically quiet now but frustration no less palpable as he waves his prosthetic arm distractedly. “I dunno what’s gotten intuh me. I saw him touch ya an’…an’…” Clyde reaches out and swipes across a table, throwing everything to the ground. His chest heaves with his outburst. Yours is rising and falling rapidly now, too, but for you its stemming from the realization that this man. This sweet, beautiful man is losing his cool over his desire to protect you. To defend you. You’re a modern woman. As you’d just told him, you can take care of yourself and you are very proud of that fact. But something about the dark look in his eye and the way his muscles shift tensely beneath his shirt and the way he stomps before you makes you feel like you want to disappear in his arms and never resurface.
“You’re a good man, Clyde,” you say softly. He shakes his head and gives a humorless laugh.
“Not tonight, I’m not, darlin’. Not with these thoughts. I haven’t felt this way since…”
“Overseas?” you ask. He nods, trying to take a deep breath but releasing an even angrier exhale.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I can’t seem to calm down. I’m just so fuckin’ mad.”
You watch your big bear, usually so gentle, wrestle with his emotions before you. Immediately you have an idea, standing up and moving to him. Using one hand to peel open his fist and interlace your fingers. He grips you too tight but you just bite your lip. Your other hand slides over his bicep and shoulder, kneading into the tense muscles there as you press your face into his chest. His prosthetic arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his body naturally. This does nothing to slow his breathing, which picks up more speed. Feeling you against his body is reminding him of how small you are. How vulnerable. He feels another surge of rage and desperation course through his veins.
“I don’t know why I’m feelin’ this way,” he mumbles but you reach up and grab his face to force him to look at you.
“Feel whatever way you feel,” you reassure him. You lift up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, but the force with which he responds steals your breath. His arms wind around your body and crush you to him as his tongue ruthlessly explores your mouth, as if searching for solace can only be done in the space where you are most conjoined. The aggression is dizzying and his fingers are bruising on your frame but you love it. Used to light touches, soft caresses, you feel a hunger burn beneath your skin, as if your every muscle is rejoicing at the deeper pressure, the deeper friction.
When Clyde finally pulls away you are winded and dazed, now breathing just as heavily. His eyes look no less wild but now there is a tinge of concern.
“M’sorry, darlin’. We should stop, ‘m too worked up. Can’t be sweet to ya the way ya like.” His words are husky and rushed but you’re just as rushed to shush him. You’re already working at his belt and pulling him back to the couch.
“I like you in whatever way you’ll have me, baby,” you mumbled against his flesh, kissing down his throat as you pull him down to the cushions. “Take it out on me.”
“What if I’m too rough with ya?” Clyde asks, but his hands are already ripping your shirt over your head and his mouth latches onto your throat, your collar bone, your breast through your bra.
“I want you to be rough with me, Clyde. I’ve wanted you to be rough with me since the moment you walked out and gave that asshole what-for.” You’re pressed down, back against the couch now, with your legs tight around the wide barrel of Clyde’s body.
“Did ya like that, darlin’? Yer Big Bear defending ya?” He’s no longer hesitant in his movements and no longer trying to stop himself. Instead he takes a handful of your ass, pulling your pelvis up off the couch so that your clothed pussy presses fully into his erect and waiting cock. You moan, both at the sensation and at him calling himself Big Bear for the first time. You’d only been dating for a few weeks and things were still new, including shyness around pet names. You’d called him Big Bear the night before in the teasing lead up to some love making and he’d only flushed and stammered in response, busying himself by burying his face between your thighs.
But right now he’s gazing down at your face with an air of intensity and you feel saliva pool in your mouth and wet slick your quivering heat.
“I liked my Big Bear defending me. So strong and big.” You say the last word as you close your hand around his enormous cock through his unzipped jeans. Clyde bucks into your hand and hums from where he’s suckling at the underside of one of your breasts, curved down into you despite your differences in height.
“Nobody else can have ya,” he grumbles before hoisting you higher on the couch so he can position his cock at your entrance. You gasp at the feeling of his member sliding between your folds, getting covered in your waiting slick.
“Nobody. Only you, Big Bear.” Before you can say anything else Clyde has speared into you in one swift motion and taken up an unforgiving pace. There was the aggression he’d been worried about and boy was it rough. You cling to him for dear life as he fucks you into the couch cushions. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack.
It hurts – he’s much too big to be going this hard this fast – but his grip on you is so tight it melts your aching muscles. The desperation of his thrusts make you hiccup through your inhales and you feel surrounded. Crushed. Filled. All in the best way possible. You love the darling Clyde who coaxes your orgasms with caresses and honeyed words and languid strokes. But this Clyde – this is your Big Bear. His eyes drink in your bouncing breasts as he’s not able to clutch them with the way he has to support his own weight with his good arm. Your back arches deeper from the effects of a particularly deep thrust, bringing your chest up to press against his and he groans.
“This body. No wonder people’re comin’ on to ya, darlin’. This body’s too perfect,” he practically growls, burying his face into your throat. “Maybe I should just keep ya here on my cock. Stay inside ya. Keep me warm and keep ya outta trouble.”
You moan loudly as his dirty words are accentuated by a change in angle that lets him pound into a particularly sweet spot. Your walls pulse around him.
“Oh god. Oh Clyde.”
“Back to callin’ me Clyde already? Am I not bein’ rough enough for ya?” Clyde asks, biting down into the sensitive flesh of your throat. You cry out, hips gyrating against him, legs and walls clamping down around him with an unconscious need to keep him buried deep inside you.
“F-fuck, oh fuck me, Big Bear. I can take it!” you practically whine.
“Yes ya can. So good, takin’ yer Big Bear.” His trusts begin to bottom out harsher, faster. The pressure and the speed have pulled your muscles as taut as they can go and you know you’re seconds from snapping. It was all so sudden. You’re both so worked up, not only from the experience out in the bar, but from the headiness of being this way with one another for the first time. He may be the one pounding into you, but you’re giving as good as you’re getting, rolling your hips up to meet each thrust. Pulling him down into you and raking your fingernails up and down his back.
It’s desperate and needy and possessive – equally so. He is yours and you are his and ownership never tasted so sweet.
Just as you’re about the cum, Clyde seems to sense it and shoves your legs up by the back of the knee, ensuring his next few thrusts rub up against the spot inside you that makes your eyes cross and makes your moans turn into desperate whimpers. You have the vague thought that this proves how well Clyde has come to know your body, what a great student he is of your orgasm, just as said orgasm crashes over you.
You know for sure that the Duck Tape customers heard you. Your belief in your audience becomes even stronger when Clyde lets out a delicious moan as he cums, too, painting your insides with spend made just for you. You’re sweaty and it’s only 7 pm on a Tuesday. Clyde’s going to have to go back to tending bar and you’re going to have to slink out, so clearly ravaged and thoroughly fucked to the likely amusement of a roomful of people who’d been rooting for your coupling. You chuckle to yourself, as Clyde drops the weight of his whole body on you, crushing you. Those people outside definitely got a chance just now to hear your coupling firsthand.
“That…was amazing.” It comes out breathless, as though you’ve just run a marathon. And because you have the mass of a large man pressing you into the couch. When Clyde finally lifts his head from its resting place at your neck he looks sheepish and embarrassed and pleased and winded.
“’M sorry if I was too much for ya, darlin’. Once ya started touchin’ me I couldn’t think straight.”
You silence him with a kiss, grabbing his face to make it deep. When you pull away your smile is ear to ear.
“If you make me feel like that, baby, there’s absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
Clyde moves to pull out of you, his cum now seeping out around his softening cock, but you tighten your legs around him suddenly.
“What happened to staying inside me, mister?” you tease.
Clyde stands abruptly, pulling you up with him still seated in your dripping cunt. Your gasp and scramble to hold onto him. He takes a few playful steps towards the door and you swat at him.
“No, I think yer right, darlin’. What better way tuh make cocktails than with my lil cockwarmer?”
~*~
Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @leather-flannel-liquor @soggywhore
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chocojjk · 4 years
Text
Hyunjin’s Playlist
summary: college student! hyunjin x college! student reader; strangers to lovers?
words: 5.2k
a/n: Hi, I meant to upload this a lot earlier however I was met with tons of writers block along the way. I wrote this without having an actual plot prepared lmao. But anyways, its done so I hope someone enjoys reading this :)
all songs used are songs that hyunjin has played on vlive but please keep in mind that the way the songs are portrayed are based off of my own interpretations. i am in no way speaking for hyunjin :) 
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one.
we are often attracted to instruments that mirror our own identity. we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t alone, that somewhere out there, someone is feeling the same exact way. they say a person can tell a lot about another based on their playlist. songs become a portrayal of one’s feelings and experiences. through someone’s music, you can tell what kind of person they are.
“Let me see your playlist.”
“What?” the boy responded, curious as to why you chose that as your conversation starter. nonetheless, he unlocks his phone and opens his spotify app, showing you the songs that have definitely left a mark on his heart. 
Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major 
A blissful song with a hint of sadness. The boy in front of you treasures the small things in life, yet is saddened by the things that he cannot reach. 
When The Party’s Over - Billie Eilish 
He’s put up a wall. He’s not easily understood. He’s aware that he can hurt others so he has made himself believe that he’d rather be alone. That he’s better off alone. 
Instagram - Dean
He’s lonely. He often compares himself to those around him, wondering why he isn’t living the same luxurious life with all the same cheerful smiles that he sees on his feed. 
Please Love Me - Colde
He wants to be loved. “I like you,” you smiled, handing him back his phone, taking the seat next to him. 
-
“The weirdest thing happened to me today.”
Hyunjin started telling his friends about the girl he encountered on his first day of university. It’s been hours since it happened yet he couldn’t shake it out of his head.
“That’s it? She just asked to see your playlist?” Jisung exclaims, one eyebrow going up and a pout making its way on his face as he wore the same confused expression Hyunjin sported earlier that day. Hyunjin nods, answering the question that his friend had laid out for him. 
“Hmm, that is weird,” Felix agreed
“Maybe she’s actually a psychology major and it’s a project?” Seungmin suggested, trying to find the answers to the situation that has left them all clueless. 
“Orrr, maybe...just maybe...she thought you were cute?” Jeongin chuckled sarcastically
“But that’s literally all she said to me, she didn’t look at me after that anymore...when the class was over, she was gone without saying goodbye… s-she didn’t even tell me her name!” Hyunjin whines, sinking into his chair. 
“Why don’t you just ask her when you see her again?” their youngest retorts, tired of how his older friends were always overanalyzing things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
You frustrated the boy. The way you didn’t even know his name yet somehow you came to the conclusion that you liked him. The way that you spoke exactly 8 words to him but made it seem like you know every story he has to tell. You made him feel vulnerable and he did not like that. 
Not one bit. 
-
“What's your name?” Hyunjin plops his backpack down as he takes the seat next to yours, the same ones as last week. 
“Why does that matter?” you ask, clearly teasing the boy. 
Hyunjin plasters on the fakest smile he could muster up, not really having the patience for your mind games, “well, if you’re gonna continue to sit next to me then the least you could do is tell me your name.”
You bite back a smile, his music gave too much of him away. He was good at hiding his feelings though which is something you’ll give him credit for later on. Honestly, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed the sour expression that was laced within the boy's tone of voice nor would you have noticed how he’s trying to show you that he’s unbothered by your words. 
Unluckily for the boy, your attention was focused solely on him. And so, you push his buttons some more, “technically, you were the one that sat next to me.”
Hyunjin stares at you, trying to read what was going on in your mind but all he could feel was the annoyance that was seeping through his body. 
God, you were annoying. 
“Slowly, hair will turn to gray,” you mumbled, a smirk forming its way on your lips. “What?” Hyunjin replied, a word he seems to be saying a lot ever since he met you. “If you keep thinking so hard, your hair might  turn to gray soon,” you joked yet it was clear to the both of you that it was only funny to you, the boy not catching on to the fact that you were phrasing a lyric from one of his songs.
“...my name is y/n,” you say, finally deciding to give the boy a break. 
“Alright class, I want to talk about your partner project, please find someone in the classroom to work with. This will be done throughout the semester and will be 30% of your overall grade so take it seriously,” the Professor informed, capturing both yours and Hyunjins attention.
“This project will be simple - it’s all about observing. Since this is a PSYCH class, I want you and your partner to pick 3 spots and just simply observe the people around you. For example, if you are at the cafe, what could the person in the corner with her eyebrows furrowed be wondering? Is she studying for an exam? Is she worried about a friend? There are tons of possibilities but I want you and your partner to jot down what you see and explain what you have observed.”
“That’s all for today, I’ll release you guys early so you can all have a head start,” she explained. 
You turn to the boy at your side, “so…you want to be partners?” 
-
Hyunjin doesn’t really know why he said yes, seeming he wasn’t comfortable with your presence at all. He convinces himself that he just didn’t want to go through the extra hassle of finding a partner when you were already available. Besides he could honestly care less, the only reason why he’s taking this class was for the extra units. After all, he was a music major. 
“How about here?” you suggested the grassy area in the middle of the campus. This part of the school was peaceful however it wasn’t quiet. Laughter and chatter from all the different kinds of groups filled up the morning air while the birds chirped along and occasionally, a squirrel or two would cause a bit of a ruckus. 
“We could grab some food and just sit down on the grass,” but the puzzled expression on the boy's face lead you to assume that he didn’t quite like the idea, “just so we would blend in more,” you added, hoping that it would be enough for the boy to say yes. 
“We don’t need to get food. We can just sit here and pretend we're talking, a lot of people around here are doing just that.” He was right. All you could do was nod and let out a sigh as the two of you sat next to each other, observing the scene ahead. You were hoping you could grab a quick bite during this since you still had classes for the rest of the day but that obviously wasn’t the case so you chose to just cover up your rumbling stomach with a cough or two here and there. 
“What do you think about him?” Hyunjin pointed at the boy that was sitting on the bench, flowers in his hand as he types away on his phone. 
“Hmm, I noticed his smile first, he’s practically beaming. He’s probably going to surprise his significant other. His legs bouncing up and down from excitement,” you chuckle, finding the anonymous boys’ action cute, “he’s probably texting them right now so they could meet up,” you concluded. You turn to Hyunjin, noticing his eyes slightly widen at your response. “What do you think?” you ask, slightly nudging him out of his trance.
“well... I think you’re right that he’s waiting for someone. But for me, he’s probably gonna confess to that person...uhmm, his ears are pink so he’s nervous… probably afraid of rejection. Because of this he’s probably texting a friend for advice,” he observed.
His answer didn’t surprise you, after all, you’ve already seen some of the deepest parts of him - even if he was unaware. On the other hand, he was in awe. Your guys’ answers were so different from the other. The way you viewed the scene ahead as something positive while his was more on the negative side. This sparked interest in him. But he breaks out of his thoughts as he hears your failed attempt to hide your growling stomach for the umpteenth time. 
He stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him. “Uhm, where are we going?”
He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs your hand and drags you along until you’ve arrived at the university’s main food court. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your stomach rumbling for the past twenty minutes,” he teases as you try to hide the blush that was making its way upon your cheeks. Now you were left speechless, nothing in the boy’s music has suggested that he had this sweet side to him. The side that would easily let someone in. 
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you admitted as Hyunjin handed you the sandwich he had ordered, one for you and one for him. 
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry that I came off strong on the first day,” you apologized, aware of the way that you’ve been pushing his buttons and leaving him uncomfortable. 
“Why did you ask for my playlist?” He was finally going to get an answer to the event that has left him stunned for the past week. 
“It’s just a thing I do,” you confess nonchalantly, “I check to see if  we have similar taste in music and from there, I come to a conclusion on whether or not you’re cool enough for me to talk to,” you lied. You weren’t going to admit to him that the reason you do it was to analyze him. I mean, what kind of person assumes a person’s whole character through their songs, right? 
He wouldn’t understand. 
Honestly, you don’t even really understand yourself why you do it. Maybe because you liked having the upper hand - that way, no one can hurt you. 
Hyunjin lets out a laugh and you feel a little guilty. “So, if my songs were bad, you wouldn’t talk to me?” he chuckles. 
“Yeah, no… not in a million years,” you joked, laughing along with him. 
“So what would be a bad song to you?” he questions, a small smile playing on his lips. 
“I don't know, uhh-despacito?” you snicker
Honestly, there were no such things as bad songs. When it comes to songs, everyone is entitled to their own opinions but you had to play along with the little lie that you’ve already started.
“Hey! I like that song!” Hyunjin retorts, playfully throwing a crumpled up tissue paper along your direction, the two of you sharing a laugh as the small guilt you felt a while ago diminishes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him anyways. You only see each other once a week and it was for class. Otherwise, you never see the brown haired boy on campus. You didn’t even know of his existence until you startled him with your question. 
The only reason he became your target was because the only empty seat was the one next to him. 
two. 
Second location. A frat party at the famous 3RACHA unit, who you’ve learned were good friends of Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin’s idea, convincing you that you guys will probably get a higher grade if you’ve incorporated various kinds of scenes. Plus, it was his first frat party and he didn’t want to miss it. You on the other hand was dreading this night ever since he brought it up in class last week. Parties weren’t your thing, you would much rather stay at home binging netflix shows, reading fanfictions, or watching compilations of your favorite kpop idols. But here you are now, rummaging the kitchen for something that didn’t contain alcohol as you’ve given up searching for the boy himself.  
“y/n!, heyy,” Hyunjin stumbles in, a red solo cup in his hand. 
“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Can we please get this over with so I can leave,” you huffed, annoyed at the boy in front of you and the situation that you’ve found yourself in. 
“No.” He pouts before letting out a laugh, his eyes turning into little moons. 
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“Let’s have some fun first!” he beamed, dragging your hand out of the kitchen and into the party, ignoring your many protests. “Hyunjin, I didn’t come here for fun!” you sigh, arms crossing as you finally put a halt to the boys actions. 
“C’mon y/n, loosen up a little bit… you’re in the first party of the most popular frat in town, enjoy it while you can.” This time he holds his hand out, though his eyes had a tinge of red from the alcohol that was playing in his system, the sincerity in them couldn’t be missed. 
And so you do.
 You take his hand in yours as he shoots you one of his signature smiles. You party the night away with the boy at your side. He introduced you to a handful of new people but you forgot their names as soon as it came out of their mouths. 
-
You had way too much to drink but somehow you find yourself stumbling towards the park nearby, the boy's hand still in yours as he shares the story of how his best friend Jisung got chased by a duck and you couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. Nothing about your laugh was pretty and if you weren’t so drunk, the embarrassment would’ve probably creeped up by now but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care - not when Hyunjins laugh would mix in with yours and you guys would have to literally cling to each other for strength. 
“Tag, you’re it!” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he starts running away, his laughter still ringing in the air as you chase him. After a while, you give up, you were in no way, shape, or form, fast enough to catch the boy - especially with all the liquor bouncing around your stomach. 
You sit down on the grass, catching your breath, your laughter dying down as your back hits the grass, eyes focusing on the twinkling orbs above. A few seconds later, warmth fills up beside you, Hyunjin taking his place next to you, mirroring your actions. 
“We never observed a person,” you say chuckling, breaking the silence that quickly hung over the two of you. 
“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, turning to you. Hyunjin takes this time to fully take in your appearance. No doubt in his mind, you are one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 
“Why don’t we, umm -,” he pauses, wondering to himself if this was going to be a good idea for him. 
“Why don’t we, what?” you reply quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as you turn to your side coming face to face with the boy himself. Your guys’ face were millimeters apart and the sudden feeling of his breathing being so close to you felt intoxicating. You dart your eyes down to his lips, thinking what it was like to feel them upon yours. 
Hyunjin lets out an awkward cough, breaking the tension in the air as he stares back up at the stars. “Why don’t we observe each other?” he suggests after his heartbeat finally calmed down. 
“Oh uhmm, o-okay,” you say, your voice faltering, pushing back your desire to kiss him. “You first,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked into his features. 
“uhh, I think you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with a boy you barely know at 3 in the morning. You don’t want me to notice that you’re actually really pissed at me for dragging you into this party and not getting any of our work done,”
The boy takes a pause as soon as he hears you giggle ‘hyunjin, you are so wrong,’ you think to yourself. 
“You’re the type to always get your shit done and you’ve probably already figured out everything you want in your life ever since you learned how to walk. You… you shouldn’t be wasting your time with someone like me,” he muttered, slowly turning to face you, this time a sad smile placed upon his lips. You sympathize with him, feeling sad with the way that he viewed himself. 
“Okay, uhm…you're anxious right now because you don’t know how i’ll react to your confessions. You’re the type of boy who doesn’t want to let anyone in but at the same time wants to know how it feels to be loved,” you sigh, the guilt you were feeling creeping in once again, slowly eating you up. Hyunjin grew tense under your observations. He hated how easily it is for you to read him when he thought that he was doing a decent job at keeping up with his facade. 
“You don’t notice the way others look at you because you’re too busy nitpicking your flaws. You didn’t notice how you were literally the life of the party back there. You didn’t notice the amount of girls practically begging for your attention…” you hesitate saying the last thing in your mind but as soon as you turned to him and saw the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let the words stumble out of your mouth, “you don’t notice how much I want to kiss you right now,” and with those words out in the open, he brings his hands up to your cheek, slowly placing a light kiss upon your rosy lips and you swear you’ve never tasted anything better. It was a quick kiss, leaving as soon as it came, but the mix of his cherry chapstick and the alcohol created a combination that left you wanting more. Leaning up, you kiss him again, his mouth moving perfectly in sync with yours, deepening the kiss that you find yourself getting more and more addicted to with every second that passes. 
Hyunjin pulls away first, his thoughts finally all coming together as the alcohol was starting to slowly leave his system. He looks at you, the fear evident in his eyes. He fucked up and he knows it. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You guys were friends and frankly, he liked your company. He can never be that guy who starts a relationship with someone. He was sure that he was incapable of love and could never give you what you wanted. You knew this, of course. You knew this from day one. 
“I’m no good for you,” he sighed, mumbling several apologies for the actions that he took. And you realize how truly scared he was. That the tough image he’s keeping up isn’t because he had to but because he truly believed that it was the right thing to do. 
“That’s okay Hyunjin, we can blame it on the alcohol,” you wished you didn’t have to but you knew yourself that you couldn’t let this get deeper than what it was now.
Hyunjin walks you back to your dorm room, making sure you were safe inside before he headed back to his own place. 
-quiet when I’m coming home, i’m all alone. 
three. 
Hyunjin saw too many relationships around him fail, starting from his own parents. For him, love was merely an illusion. A desire that people get caught up with not because they are in love but because they lust the idea of love. The idea of having someone there to hold, to laugh with, to share stories with - it was all bullshit to him because at the end of the story, someone always leaves. Someone always says goodbye. It wasn’t worth it. 
Not for him. 
But sometimes he’ll see a picture on instagram and wonder to himself, could those smiles be permanent? 
“Are you just gonna keep stalking her social media or are you gonna actually talk to her?” Jeongin breaks the boy out of his thoughts. 
“I’m not stalking her!” Hyunjin replies defensively, hiding the pink that was creeping upon his cheeks. 
“I’ve literally been here for the past 3 mins just looking at you scroll through her feed and you didn’t even notice,” the younger boy points out, teasing him. Ever since the night at the park, Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. He knew that the both of you agreed to just forget it but could he really forget something like that? You made him feel what he was scared of the most. You made him feel like he wanted to fall in love. The memory of your lips against his keeps him up at night, your laughter ringing in his ear while the warmth from your fingertips makes him feel like he’s completely losing it. 
How can he still feel you when you were nowhere near him? 
How did you get past his wall so quickly? 
And why, fuck, why does he want you in it? 
-
You, on the other hand, haven't made any effort to reach out either. He was right about you. You were a know-it-all. Ever since you were younger you knew that you wanted to help the people around you. You enjoyed listening to others’, letting them know that they are never alone and that they could always turn to you for advice or simply just if they needed someone to listen to them. You liked the idea of being someone’s safe haven - that’s why you want to be a psychologist. 
But this - the way the boy made you feel, the way he cluttered your every waking thought - this was something you didn’t plan. This was something you didn’t have the answers to. Grabbing your phone, you finally gain the courage to send the boy a text 
Hey, we still have one scenario left, any ideas? - y/n
Hyunjin reads the text, his heart suddenly doing somersaults in the air. ‘Hyunjin, stop.’ he warns himself. He knows that he wasn’t ready to see you and so he ignored it. Grabbing his backpack he shouts a quick, “I'm gonna go practice,” before heading out to the dance rooms to try and clear his head. 
-
umm, what do you think about going to the diner across town? - y/n 
You did it. You double texted. After several hours, the boy still hasn’t responded to your text so you decided to take manners in your own hands. But as soon as you pressed send, you felt pathetic. He’s most likely just busy and that’s why he hasn’t replied but you like to make yourself believe that you had more of an effect on him. 
You were about to scream into your pillow, feeling frustrated at the situation until your phone let out a small ding, indicating that you’ve received a new message. 
sure - hyunjin 
how does tomorrow at 6pm sound ? - y/n 
good - hyunjin
These one word answers were killing you. For someone who usually knows and can assume what’s about to happen beforehand, you were left clueless and that annoyed you.  
-
“Hey, am i late?” hyunjin takes the seat across from you. no, he wasn’t late. you just arrived way earlier than the time planned hoping to calm your nerves before having to face the boy who has settled himself into your mind. 
“What do you think of that girl over there?” you point at the girl who was sitting, laughing along with her group of friends.
“geez y/n, can’t we order something to eat first,” hyunjin jokes. He barely got there and you were already on top of it. typical, he thinks to himself. You let out a small smile, happy at the fact that the boy was teasing you. Honestly, you were afraid that his responses were going to be as bland as his text messages and it has been killing your thoughts the whole night. 
“ok ok,, my bad… let’s order first,” when your food arrived, you fell into a comfortable conversation. like the thoughts that the both of you have been struggling with never existed. but in the middle of the conversation, something clicked within you. 
You can‘t read him anymore and that scared you. 
“honestly i think this whole project is stupid,” hyunjin blurts out, capturing your attention. 
“hmm, why do you say that?”
“i just find it absolutely ridiculous to just judge someone based on one scenario, you know? like i bet all our guesses have been wrong so far,” he confesses and once again the guilt rushes to your heart and you were left speechless. 
“Like I really hate it when people judge others without getting to know them like who do you think you are? Do people who do that actually think they’re better or mightier?” Hyunjin continues and suddenly the space around you feels tight, your lungs struggling to find air. You were the type of person that Hyunjin would hate and that leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach. 
Hyunjin notices this after a while of you not responding to him and just picking at your food. “y/n, you okay?” he says, eyes filled with worry and you can't help but let out a tear, quickly brushing it off as soon as it hit your cheek. You don’t deserve the way he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone that comes to hurt you. 
“Hyunjin...i’m sorry,” you let out quietly as you tried to stop the rest of your tears from water falling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the diner, leaving a very confused Hyunjin behind to wonder what you were apologizing for. 
four.
7 missed calls 
you don’t dare try to answer any of it. 
the thought of having to face the boy and explain the reasons for your apology hurts you knowing that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. how do you even explain it to him? there is literally no plausible excuse: 
“hey yeah i’m the jerk that you hate because i judged your whole personality based off of five songs,”
“i only did it because i like superiority”
“it also helps me feel better about myself”
yeah. he’ll definitely hate you afterwards. and so you sulk in your room, letting out your frustrated cries, your blanket comforting you as the sound of your phone ringing filled the air. after the 12th call, the ringing finally stops and you feel like you can finally think until a knock on your dorm room brings you back to reality. 
“hey,” he sighs, your eyes immediately widening as you shut the door as quickly as you opened it. 
“y/n, come on!” hyunjin whines
“how did you know this was my room?” you yell through the door. 
“I asked around,” he shouts back “now can you let me in??”
You were frozen in place, hands gripped on your doorknob to make sure that he can’t come in. “Look, we don’t have to talk about what happened okay,” he starts, “but we do have a project due in 2 days and i would like to finish it...so please just ….. just let me in.” He finishes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth once he comes face to face with the girl that has always been a puzzle to him. 
Entering your dorm room, you notice that the boy's hair is a bit disheveled and you wonder how many times he has let his hands run through them due to frustration. He’s doing his best to hide his furrowed eyebrows and keep a calm expression but you see through all of it. 
you’re doing it again. you think to yourself.  
“okay let’s just make up a scenario since we didn’t get one at the diner,” you suggest, finally breaking the silence that hung above the two of you. 
“why did you apologize?” hyunjin quietly asks, his gaze fixed strongly on you and you find yourself having to sit down due to the impact of his stare. 
“hyunjin…. you said we didn’t have to talk about it,” you responded, trying to change the subject. 
“I lied. I need to know the answers y/n. I need to know why you seem to see through my walls. I need to know how you dug a hole in my mind and stayed in it because I want you out. I don’t know what I’m feeling when it comes to you and I don’t like it.”
“How??? How can you see right through me?!”He frustratedly confesses, his voice getting louder with every question that leaves his mouth. 
“What?? are you a stalker??? Is that why you know?? have you been following me around ??”
“No!” you responded quickly, shutting down the assumptions that the boy has managed to come up with. 
“It’s your music.” you finally confess, your heart tightening as the words left your mouth, afraid of what’s to come next. 
Hyunjin stares at you, his mind finally connecting all the dots. The reason you asked for his playlist. The reason why you knew his stories and insecurities. All of it was because he gave you access to his music. And suddenly he felt bare. All his hiding, all the walls he put up, it was all useless when it came to you. 
“The last song in that playlist…” he starts but you finish the sentence for him, “please love me by colde,” your glassy eyes staring back up at him. 
“so, will you?” hyunjin asked, worry laced within his voice. 
“y-you’re not mad at me?” you stuttered, the boy's actions leaving your mind in a maze. he shakes his head. oddly enough, he didn’t feel any anger towards you. noticing that you were left in your thoughts to make sense of the situation at hand, he offers you a soft smile, “after knowing how troubled my mind was, you still stayed.”  
“i think i already do…” you confess, eyes fixated on him, “love you, that is,” you say mirroring the small smile that was on the boy’s face. 
At your confession, Hyunjin let’s out a shaky breath. 
“will you let me love you?” you ask him, a gentle tone laced within your voice, afraid of the answer to come. 
your eyes never breaking contact with his, you moved closer to him. hyunjins eyes darts down to your lips and suddenly the answer seemed so clear. 
love. 
the word that terrifies him the most. the thing that the boy has been swearing off ever since he was little. love was something hyunjin never understood but every time he looks at your eyes, every time he feels your warmth next to him, and now as your lips move in perfect sync with his, it all seems to make sense.
(a/n): this ending is so rushed and im not sure if im entirely happy with it but i really did not know what to do for the longest time. i was thinking of just scrapping the whole thing tbh but anyways....
feedback is always welcomed and my ask is always open :) 
thank you for reading! 
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yandere-wishes · 5 years
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Happy Birthday // Yandere! Beelzebub x reader x Yandere! Belphegor
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I’m about four days late but here it is Belphi and Beel’s birthday fic! Happy birthday you two chaotic idiots!
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Mornings were exceptionally hectic in the house of lamination, seven brothers, five "unexpected" visitors who popped in on random, a three-headed dog and finally the exchange student from another world. All rushing and hassling trying to prepare for the RAD school day. Angry shouts and frustrated accusations ricocheted off the walls, echoing in every direction.
But today...the house was noiseless, no one screamed or shouted or yelled. The pitter-patter of footsteps was nonexistence. Today was the day the house of lamination stood still.
Strangely enough, it was the dead silence that had awaken you. Your eyes fluttered open trying to adjust to the bright light that illuminated the room. You let out a yawn and went to grab your D.D.D to check the time. 'It must still be early' you though, that was the only reasonable explanation for the momentary serenity...
why wouldn't your arms move? At first, you simply let out a huff of annoyance had Mammon or Levi spent the night again and laid on top of your arms until they went numb? A quick surveillance around the room confirmed that the crow and snake demons weren't there, in fact, it also proved that this wasn't your room at all.
You struggled again trying to move around, at this point, it was bluntly obvious that your hands and ankles had been tied. Why and buy who you didn't know...but an educated guess would suggest that this was Asmoudeus handy work, the demon of lust was always pulling rather sexual "pranks" what made this time any different.
"Asmo? Quit it I'm not in the mood for some of your stupid jokes!"
You were met with stillness..did he really think this was funny? "Asmo!" You shouted again.
"I think she's up" a monotone voice shattered the stillness. You tried to crane your head and to see who was talking. The voice was familiar definitely one of the brothers...but which one.
"Does that mean we can start eating the cake?!" The second voice was easy to identify. Ever the eager eater Beel's voice was spiked with excitement and impatience.
"B-Beel is that you? Can you untie me? Asmo's being a--" "Can you stop talking about Asmodeus!" The first voice snapped, from the edge in his tone and the "huffy" noise that came from his nose, no doubt about it, the voice belonged to Belphegor.
"W-what's..going o-on here" Fear sunk its needle-like claws into your frame. Infecting your mind, poisoning your thoughts. What was going on, what were the twins planing?
You tried struggling again, squirming and tossing around attempting to free yourself, by now your position was made clear. Your wrists were tied behind your back, your ankles were so tightly bound together that you could feel your bones sinking into one another. As for the rest of your body, it was wrapped in a long purple piece of ribbon.
"What the heck is this! Untie me NOW!" fury laced your once terrified tone, boiling inside you and replacing the fear that had built up. You watched as Belphegor slowly made his to the bed, one knee placed on the edge of the bed and hosting himself up, looming over you and incaging you in his arms. His lips were cracked into a devious smirk, his eyes bubbled with the same sort of sadistic glee they had when he'd first tried to kill you in the attic.  
"(Y/N) did you really forget what today is?" His mouth twisted itself into a pout, "I'm so disappointed in you! How could you forget the birthday of your two favorite demons?" Slowly his tail crept up your leg, tracing over your torso and making a quick bath to your neck. With snake-like agility it wrapped it's self around your throat, tighter and tighter. Air choked out of your lugs escaping and refusing to reenter. Tiny black spots were dancing around in your blurry vision.
"Belphi stop!" Beelzebub ran over to the two of you, sitting on the other side of the bed and gently pushed Belphegor away. Reluctantly the youngest uncurled his tail and released your neck. You gaged on the sudden invasion of air, chest heaving trying to greedily suck in as much as possible.
"Breath, just breathe it's okay. Belphi just got a little excited that's all, he's just so happy that we finally have you all to ourselves!" Beel ran a hand gently over your stomach attempting to ease you into calamity. It didn't work. When your breathing had been regulated, tears started to roll out of your eyes. "W-why are you...you doing this to m-me?" Was this all some cruel joke? Why would Beel the most sensitive and kind-hearted demon in all of Hell tie you up like this? Belphie you could understand the boy was unhinged but his twin? No that didn't make any sense.
Beel got up, walking over to the further corner of the room, as you followed his figure you began to note the decore of the large room. Wrapped presents of all shapes and sizes mostly in shades of orange and purple were scattered around, an enormous banner hung close to the windows. In a dripping red color too dark to be actual paint "Happy Birthday Beel and Belphi" was written in Satan's neet cursive handwriting. Finally, a large table with a plastic table cloth embossed with mini happy birthdays and party hats had been placed at the end of the room, right in front of the closets. A colossal cake with frosting the twin's signature colors and multiple tiny fruits had was placed at the center of the table. Around it streamers and plastic plates where placed in a semi-random order.
Beel carefully cut off a slice and placed it on one of the plates, walking back to you, he smilled it almost filled your heart with a type of warmth seeing that radiant grin. He sat down and carefully sliced a tiny piece of bringing it to your mouth.
"Lucifer made it! He said he used all our favorite ingredients! Wasn't that nice of him!?" You remind immobile for a moment glaring up at the orange-haired demon, did he just say "us"? As in not the twins but yourself included. "Beel, does Lucifer know that you and Belphie have me tied up in your room?" You tried to sound bold and brave but the shock was still weighting on your chest making reality seem fuzzy and surreal.
"It was his idea actually" Belphie was the one to respond, that dreadful smirk reappearing at full force. "He wanted to give us something special to make up for everything he's done to me- I mean us, to us." "So he said we could keep you as our own! Isn't that great (Y/N)" Beel beamed, he looked so cute like this, one would never think he was stating that you would have to remain with him and his brother as their captive. "Mammon and Levi we're kinda sad at first...but we promised they could see you, and Lucifer promised to get them their own darlings on their birthdays!"  
You choked out a sob the flow of tears continued as hiccups left your mouth, no wonder the house was so quiet today, all of them had planned this, they had plotted to leave you at their little brothers mercy while you had remained naive to the whole ordeal, getting on with your life as if nothing would occur to you.
"Quite crying (Y/N), just accept it you belong to us now. It really isn't so bad when you consider your other options. Satan and Lucifer would exhibit you to endless torment, Levi and Mammon are idiots and wouldn't even know what to do to you. And well...Asmo's..you get the picture. Beel and I are really the only good choice, you should be thankful to be our birthday gift!" Belphegor's statement did very little to ease your crying, then again was that even what he was trying to do. This wasn't fair you didn't want to be their little doll, you wanted to be free.
Beel leaned, placing a tiny kiss on your lips. You could smell the strawberries of cake on his breath. The older twin continued to kiss down your neck and shoulder, stopping on certain spots to bite and suck.
Belphie simply watched enjoying the small show his brother was performing. The younger twin brought his mouth to your ear and whispered.
"This is going to be the best birthday ever, and we would know, we've had a couple thousand of them.
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magioftheseas · 4 years
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For the Bingo, reluctant caretaker with Tsukasa and Sakura maybe?
First fic for the @badthingshappenbingo and it’s on the shorter side. Only 1K. I hope that’s okay? ;w;
Anyway, prompt taken from here! Ao3 link is here!
Warnings: A brief violent fantasy.
Sometimes, Nanamine Sakura sits and stares at nothing in particular. She doesn’t blink, she doesn’t breathe, she doesn’t even read. She sits and stares. At nothing in particular.
“Sakura!”
Two small hands press into her cheeks.
“Did you stop functioning? That’s no good!” A shout into her ear. “I want sweets!”
It didn’t hurt. It didn’t even make her ears ring.
“Sweets, sweets, sweets!” is chanted over and over again. “I want sweets!”
The cat was screaming. Throwing a temper tantrum like a child. There was little to do but give in.
“Understood. Please be patient.”
“Yay!” Tsukasa threw his hands up happily. “Sweets!”
The mokke could be similarly pushy and demanding. If it was indeed true that supernaturals were born as mokke, Sakura wouldn’t be surprised if Tsukasa hadn’t matured mentally the slightest bit since existing. He still presses up against her, wanting attention and affection as if he were still small and cute.
She doesn’t remember ever being like that. Needy. Demanding. So, so, so indulgent, impulsive, and selfish. A complete lack of consideration and compassion.
She caters to him as there’s nothing else to do. There’s a word for people like him—brats. Natsuhiko, daft and irritating as he may be, certainly agreed, given the number of insults he uses to refer to this boy. This boy could destroy both of them without batting an eyelash, crush their skulls with his tiny fingers. Those same tiny fingers that he licks clean and sucks crumbs off of.
“You are making a mess,” Sakura murmured blandly, wiping off his face and hands with a napkin. Tsukasa blinks at her, and without missing a beat, he practically shoves one of the cookies into her face. It smashes against her jaw, into the corner of her grimace.
“You don’t want any, Sakura?” he asks, eyes wide. Innocent in appearance and tone. Sakura wonders how that can be when innocence is so popularly thought of as delicate and fragile. Something to be protected. Something to be shielded from the filth of the world.
In the beginning, this boy clung to her as if she could protect him. He still does that sometimes, hiding in her skirt and pressing happily to her hands.
What an irritating brat.
She does take a bite of the cookie just so that she could crush something between her teeth.
To her, it just tastes like sand. It’s hardly appetizing, much less satisfying.
“Thank you,” she murmurs but pushes it away from her. “Take the rest. You were the one who wanted it.”
Tsukasa doesn’t need any further urging, stuffing his face ravenously. Sakura wipes his face much more as well as his hands. Looking down at him, he blinks up at her. The child has bright eyes, pale and golden like a harvest moon. If she squints, she can even see the blood staining his very being. The creatures he crushed—and the scars left behind of a terrible crime. One that twisted and warped this thing into the monster it was now.
Tsukasa sneezes.
“The supernatural flu?” she murmurs, feeling his forehead and brushing aside those choppy bangs. “That may be a problem for us.”
“You’ll take care of me, right, Sakura?” Tsukasa asks, eyes brighter than before. Shining with expectation and affection. “You’ll take care of me just like Amane.”
Just like his brother. Indeed, Sakura imagines this boy sick in bed. Helpless and flushed, reaching for her and whining. Whine, whine, whine, whine—Sakura imagines suffocating him with a pillow. Flailing and writhing before finally falling limp. She thinks of broken dolls and cold stares.
“I have no choice,” she said, pulling away. “Still, I would prefer not to.”
She goes and prepares tea. Refreshing, fragrant, and often good for the sinuses. She gives some to him, and he drinks it promptly. Not a mess made this time, but she still observes him silently and intently. She pours him another cup, watching as he downs that as well.
The third, he laps at tentatively, as if he is now trying to discern its taste.
“Oh!” he exclaims, realizing. “It’s like flowers budding, Sakura! Like in the story you read.”
“The recipe was in the back,” she said. “I thought I might test it myself. So, I succeeded, then.”
Tsukasa nodded at her excitably, grinning so widely it split his face wide open. Grotesque.
“It’s delicious!”
“Take care of yourself,” was her clipped response. “If you experience fatigue and dizziness, then stay here.”
“Goooot it,” Tsukasa drones in that childish, sing-song tone. He giggles before distracting himself with his own reflection in the tea. He stirs it with his finger.
It’s such a hassle. Looking after someone like this. He really was her opposite in every single way, and she found it almost repugnant. To suggest she hated him, however—it was far more complicated than that. The two of them were contracted. They had an agreement. To deal with and care for him is a necessity.
She still wished it could be easier. That Tsukasa could be more akin to a doll, able to be maneuvered and manipulated with a few twists of the wrist. If only he could be as passive and as stupid as she used to be. It’s not a thought of malice and contempt—to live passively and foolishly is the easiest thing. The simplest and perhaps, the happiest.
Tsukasa is simple-minded, especially with how he covers the seal on his cheek and makes faces at himself. They’re faces he’s seen on his brother, she’s sure. He’s simple-minded, after all. Easily fixated. Easily distracted. She doesn’t even have to hear the fond, lilting murmur of that brother’s name.
He’s simple-minded, but in a way that makes matters complicated for everyone else.
It’s so annoying. So utterly, unbelievably annoying.
(She envies him.)
“If you do not drink it, it will get cold.”
“That’s fine. It’s not like I can taste the temperature.” Tsukasa’s face scrunches up. “Yep. That’s definitely—Amane’s face.”
(He’s her opposite in every way. Chaotic and troubling, but with a gaze burning from emotion and adoration. She really, really envies him.)
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transrightsjimin · 4 years
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im sorry im not rly in the BE hype atm :((
rant coming which has nothing to do w the album but everything w stress nd fatigue nd crying nd more job stress nd sensory overload and me turning everything into a worse issue in my head etc etc
i was this morning when i saw the mv nd watched the vlive but i obv slept way too few bc i went to bed late nd woke up early for the live and i had to rush a lot w errands nd an appointment w my autism coach nd at said appointment we called a dude from the municipality to inquire abt jobcoaches nd it turned out we misunderstood what jobcoaches are as they are who u get referred to when u have a job, nd the guy found it hard to figure out what type of trajectory(?) would best fit me for help nd now i have time to think abt it and will speak him again in 2 weeks or sooner if i want to. im just so tired nd a bit hungry and on edge and one sec, im in the side of the house tht faces kids playing around aka screeching as if theyre dying every second nd its majking me only more on edge!!!!
but urgh i cried so bad during the appointment and was prob way too rudde to her before the appointment, bc she talks loudly nd sounds rude nd confronting but just naturally bc ofher tone nd language nd urghgh h thikning abt jobs nd trying to talk nd not cry too hard when trying to explain stuff to the man over the phone was rly hard, like obv its fine if he knows im crying but its just hard to talk when crying nd im just so devastated thinking abt jobs!! i dont know what type of job i could handle nd it feels like im making everythig up bc i did somehow finish two studies in uni and im privileged enough w education and whiteness tobe more easily selected for a job by e.g. last name on my cv and i shouldnt be this picky but god i cant handle smth as physically demanding and underpaid as this, im tired 4/7 days that im not working nd what i earn in those 3 days is still not enough to cover rent bc they pay only for the delivery time itself instead of more hours!!! it just feels like wtf am i doing bc the municipality guy did admit im not the usual person he works w bc i had an education, as if i dont belong in the group but its really just an issue of having -100 confidence and no job experience!! like i rly dont strive for a fancy job or ‘���’career’’’, i just bneed something that i can pay my monthly expenses w and have a bit left to save up for e.g. emergencies, additional medical bills (like the 350 euros from the adhd diagnosis and therapy, which my autism coach will contact my adhd therapist abt, like if that bill can be delayed or split up in a payment plan), paying back for loan debt eventually and MAYBE soon god forbid i save up for smth fun. and i “need” the job also to have a daily activity and some structure in my life bc a large part of the reason my schedule is so fucked up is bc i have no more set time tht i need to be anywhere or any strictness or reason to get up nd so i just dont ghhh
im always looking for reasons why i cant do smth and why smth would go wrong and im already looking at every area where getting help w getting a job can go wrong like e.g. me being too stubborn abt companies i dont agree w or me thinking i cant do anything just bc i have not much working experience outside of mail delivery :(
nd then there was this A B C task list system my adhd therapist proposed in wihc i keep track of my most to least urgent + important tasks every day nd we werent sure where to keep track of that kind of list and she suggested sticking a paper to a wall (i think id rather use my wardrobe) to write it on and change or replace that every day and it sounds like a hassle but i rly need to do it every day, nd i can try other methods but thatd be either writing it on my phone but im not always on there nd theres not a type of file i can make that doesnt move back chronologically as i make new notes
ALSO im just very frustrated w myself bc my mom wanted to come over w food and i know she was too sudden w it but if only i left on time for the stores it wouldnt have been an issue. i feel like shes rly sad she couldnt come visit. fucking hell i rushed so much back and forth from the stores that i forgot to put the leftover letters from work yesterday into the outdoor mailbox and i already stress abt this bc my current teamcoach (aka manager) is more stricter w this stuff nd recently asked for a statement / explanation by me on why there were 29 letters w/o sticker from a route i did  counted from the collected mail that were in outdoor mailboxes, and i did not do that but my only alibi / reason for not making that huge mistake was that i hadnt posted any mail yet that day and obv he wasnt happy w that. i sometimes had dreams / nightmares recently where i was late again or fucked up w a new route and got fired for it and thats quite an awful scenario / fear to me bc thats exactly why my dad was fired by his previous employee, for being late too often nd we’re the exact same. it just sucks bc i know many ppl who worry abt being late arrive to early at shit bc lol anxiety but i still arrive late every day WHILE being stressed abt it nd my whole fucking issue is that i need to break w bad patterns MYSELF, like whether i get help for autism stuff or adhd or sleep or whatnot, the homework / assignments / tasks / advice they give me, in the end i still need to be the one to do it and push through and make a change or put more effort into not going continuously back to the same distractions or demotivating black-white thinking
just URGH im so easily annoyed nd sensitive, also as in sensitive on a tactile level nd it doesnt help tht my room is a mess nd im super stinky from bts BE excitement and from squeezing my skin a lot last night, nor does the fact that i have rly bad coordination / awareness of my surroundings nd continuously bumping into shit or getting caught on smth help, which is also another reason im just so slow at work bc if i try to walk or deliver mail faster i keep end up bruising nd tripping or tear my hands on all these hard to move or sharp mail box slots if im not careful nd slower, which does still happen but not as bad when im careful
im also rly dizzy rn from haing slept too few and just urgh i “need“ a stupid fucking job, i need the money i need the structure but my god does actual labour and having to deal w colleagues every day and trying to keep up w stuff and be fast and precise enough in whatever the job is, sound horrifying hhhgghgh
OK RANT OVER IM SICK OF ME TALKING SO MUCH
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kinsbin · 5 years
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An Impulsive Purchase
Title: An Impulsive Purchase Ship: Of Kindness and Evil [Xena/Darth Maul - OC/Self Insert X Canon] Rating: T 
Summary: Xena is an indentured servant, paying her way out of her boss’ shop by working as hard as she can. When a mysterious stranger comes in looking for information, only to find her instead, his offer to pay off the rest of her remaining debt is more than surprising. What’s even more surprising than that, though? The reason why he did it.
A/N: Wrote a little fic about how Darth Maul and I first met and how he recruited me onto his ship! I couldn’t resist writing for myself a little between commissions ;w;
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Tatooine’s sands were endless, but that was not something Xena wasn’t used to. She bore it as well as any native of the planet might do, with an occasional wince to her face as sand dug itself into her vision and comfort in the heat that burned her sweat-laden skin as she moved box after box of heavy supplies from her bosses shop onto a cargo-freight pulled along by droids who looked nearly bored in their impatience for her to finish up. She ignored them, too, for the most part, focusing instead on making sure that the cargo was not damaged in any way as it landed on the freight, less the price of each piece come in years until she was free from him.
Indentured servitude wasn’t the way she had wanted to settle into Tatooine, but it was the only way she could escape her native home and the war that ravaged it. The Clone War had devastated a number of planets and, she remembered back with bitter annoyance, the Republic was only so keen on helping those with little to no profit within the Galactic Trade Federation. So, stealing off on a cargo ship, her Boss had simply offered her a ride for a few years of helping him manage goods and wares on other planets. The deal was nice at first, and he treated her with respect. Not as a slave but as a co-worker pushing away a debt. There was, at least, some dignity in it.
“That’s the last box,” The man’s gruff voice echoed behind her as he pat the cargo with a caring gesture to it, “They’ll be going to take it off planet, I believe.”
Xena only nodded, her longing hidden behind a small wave of regret as she watched the cargo slowly fade into the distance of the setting sun. She had grown stir crazy too fast on this planet. On this little shop selling nothing but smuggled goods and secrets for those willing to pay the price for them. Her Boss wasn’t a cruel man, well, not a cruel man on the planet’s standards, but he had a set of demands that were required to be followed. Sometimes she was a scapegoat for work and money more than she was an actual worker in itself...
A sharp nudge on her side made Xena groan and wince, glaring up only slightly at the man to her side, who ruffled her short hair with a frown.
“New customers coming in, little one, focus.”
“Yes, Sir.” She responded with an automatic huff before focusing on the sight of those walking towards their shop. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared forward.
The man walking between two other guards was sharp looking in all senses of the words. The thick black coats he wore billowed in the sandy winds of the desert and echoed in their flapping. It hid most of his body well, but the vague remnants of light that did shine on his available face made the shadows of its hood cast further across him. The hints of crimson and black shone across his skin, horns poking slightly from the top of the hood as he moved forward. The billowing of his cape revealed a thin tube at his side. A tube that even she knew what the sight of meant.
Jedi.
Her Boss knew too. A slap to her back made her push forward towards the door of their shop.
“Go and set up in the shop, girl.” He hissed with a demanding tone in her direction. Xena scrambled into the cooler interior of the shop, organizing things here and there, though not really sure of what he wanted her quite to do. So she stood behind the counter and twiddled her thumbs, ears straining as voices grew closer and closer, her Boss’s above the rest as he talked about one thing or another to the new arrival with a nervous cadence about his tone. He was scared. She could feel it warp in her chest like a strong empathy and she swallowed at it, trying not to allow it to consume her. 
“The information you want is rare,” Her Boss’ words were sharp as he added, “The more rare the information, as I’m sure you know, the more expensive it is.”
The man had little words to this, his quip simple as he spoke in his dark, heavy cadenced growl:
“My master is willing to pay whatever is necessary to acquire it. Your price is no hassle.”
“Good, good,” He hummed with a smirk, gesturing to Xena after a moment, “My servant here keeps up to date on all going ons around Tatooine. I’m sure what you ask of her she will know.”
She tried to smile, but it faltered when the man looked at her.
His amber eyes were intense. More intense than she had ever seen in her life. Deep and terrifying, she felt something crawl out of him. An energy that touched at her and prodded with angry curiosity. Yes, she read in surprise, it was anger. Anger and a restlessness that filled her stomach and bit at her insides as their eyes continued to lock. What did he want to know, she wondered? What did he see in her that they kept staring like this? Oh god, she realized with horror, had she been the one staring this whole time? Was she the rude on here?
“You.”
The stranger’s voice startled her as he drew closer, brow ridges furrowing as he gazed with something akin to frustration across his handsome face. 
“Y-Yes, Sir,” She murmured out after being addressed, “I... I know most of the going abouts here... Anything you ask I will likely-”
She quieted as he drew closer, squinting further at her and the feelings around his aura grew more and more intense with every second until they were a loud, screaming hum in her ears. Xena winced and bit her lip, trying to avoid his eye contact but she felt as though to pull away from that dangerous look would be a sin of some sort, so she remained compliant to the apparently silent interrogation.
“Sir,” Her Boss’ voice echoed above the screaming hum, “She’s an informant, not a whore. If you want to fuck her with your eyes like that then I suggest you-”
With a whip of his hand, the stranger sent the other man flying back, crashing into a nearby wall where he kept him there by the throat, struggling to breath where the invisible power clung to his trachea.
“Your sensitivity to the Force is something to be admired,” The Stranger spoke slowly, “... and something that may be used.”
Xena bit her lip, unsure of what else to say as she gazed on at him. Her eyes flitted to behind him, where her Boss hung groveling in pain. Seeing her gaze, the stranger pulled away from the other man, allowing his body to crumple to the ground as he gasped for air. Turning away from her, the stranger approached her Boss with an intense look in his eyes. She was starting to feel that all of his looks were intense.
“I have no need for your information,” His voice was even as it was dark, making Xena shiver, “But there is someone else I would like to purchase.”
Someone else... The word was not lost as Xena inhaled sharply. Was this man really... ?
“My servant,” Her Boss gasped bitterly, “Is not for sale, Sir. Besides, she is indentured. She will be free once her full debt is paid off here.”
There was a snarl to his features as he turned to face Xen again, bright amber eyes staring into her. Slowly, surely, she realized a sound rang out in her head. A voice, similar to the man’s but distorted in some way. She chewed on her lip as it murmured words softly somewhere in her brain.
‘Come with me.’
She could only find a small will to think in return:
‘If I were free, I would.’
Suddenly the stranger pulled a satchel from his side, the coin falling to the floor in front of her boss with a low clatter as he growled, “Will this cover it?”
She wasn’t even sure her boss counted before he agreed a little too eagerly.
And that was how Xena found herself being pulled away from her once home, turned prison and turned past residence. How she found herself trailing behind the Dathomirian Sith Lord known as Darth Maul. She said nothing as she followed him through the darkened sands of Tatooine, nor did he. They were silent until they reached his ship.
Upon entering it, Xena stopped her jaw from dropping. Stopped her eyes from wandering with too much awe as she pet at the smooth metal surfaces around her. A real ship. One she hadn’t ever been in before. The reality of her decision settled into her chest as the door closed behind her and the being before her stood, intimidating and taller than her, to look down with apprehension at her shrinking form. 
She licked her lips, knowing she was free but still scared to speak outright. 
“Speak,” He demanded, as though her mind was clearly being read. Xena exhaled.
“I appreciate your assistance in my debt,” She spoke finally, “But I’m still wondering why you would buy a random servant girl from a slum in Tatooine without even receiving the information you were bartering for in the first place.”
He said nothing for a long time, and it prompted her her next question:
“I don’t even know your name.”
Fingertips gripped at his hood and Xena inhaled. She watched as it fell away, rivulets of silken material balling at the base of his neck to reveal the intricate tattoos against red flesh that littered his entire face. The horns (there were more than one, she could see now) stood proud. Like a crown around his mind. It only made his gaze more intense as she looked him over, fascinated and curious and oh-so interested. He was... handsome, certainly. But her question still wasn’t answered, not even as he turned away from her and began setting up the cockpit in his ship for take off.
“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?” She asked curiously. A mistake, it seemed.
He sneered from his seat and looked on at her, glaring sharply and making her flinch away from the look before he spoke with a spite in his tone the likes of which she had only heard in the most hated of enemies:
“No, little one, I am no Jedi.”
“Then what are you?”
“Darth Maul,” He spoke curtly, “is what I am called. As for you... You feel it, don’t you? The hum of the Force around you. Its substance reaching out to you. Touching at your core and burning at your fingers...”
Xena swallowed as she didn’t answer. He knew what her answer was. What she recalled as the memories of their voices echoing without words sounded in the distance. 
“Someone as Force Sensitive as you should not be ignored,” He continued, “and, with training, I can help you to use it. Help you to understand the power you weild.” 
It was all so much. All too much, almost. Xena’s head spun as she took it in. A Force user? Like the Jedi? Like the Sith? The man before her was clearly not on the Republic’s side, that was for certain, but did that matter? What had the Republic done for her? Not as much as he did, paying her out of her debt and taking her away from a planet of danger...
Slowly, she smiled. Excitement built and curiosity welled eagerly as she tightened her grip on her arms.
“I... I’m Xena,” She spoke softly, “Is there anything i should call you in particular, Darth Maul?”
“... Refer to me as Master from now on, little one.”
“Yes, Master.”
And it was the beginning, she knew, of something wonderful. 
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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years
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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!). 
["Android Girl" in the background intensifies]
I'll most likely sink with this ship, I'm afraid. I therefore makes it my task to bring the ship another sickfic, and even if it's kind of the same as before, it's still different in its own way I think. It's kind of OOC here, this much I'll admit, but I got carried away and couldn't stop. It's been a while since I've allowed myself to go wild and far, so this was a bundle of fun and I hope someone else appreciates it!
yeah boi it's another sylvgrid sickfic what ya gonna do 'bout dat
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Tastes Like Iron
Summary: There is a turning point in Sylvain's life and vision of the world around him. A point that just so happens to take place in the middle of a college corridor.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Modern AU, pre-timeskip personalities) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (pre-relationship)
Wordcount: 2.8K words
Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo
AO3 version available here.
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It’s early in the morning when Ingrid comes up to him, emerald eyes staring right into his soul. She looks angry at him (when isn’t she? She always seems to be angry at him for a reason or the other, this won’t change soon), footsteps heavy in the echoing corridors. It’s not a sight he hasn’t seen before, frankly: they’ve been like this since they were children, only their appearance and buildings around them changing over the time.
It’s a dynamic that feels comfortable, though, so Sylvain is starting to wonder if he isn’t feeling better with this company around. This is a real paradox in itself: who likes to get scolded?
 He’s on his way to class when she bumps into him directly, as she always does to convey her words to him. She takes his scarf in her hand, gets his face nearer to hers (it’s kind of awkward, but he likes it), fury raging in her stare.
“Hello, Sylvain.”
Yet, her frowned eyebrows aren’t of anger, or at least, not as much as one would have thought would they not know Ingrid personally. However, Sylvain knows better than that, knows her better than he’d let on; and guesses this isn’t just going to be about skirt-chasing tendencies he’s trying to keep in check anyway.
Blame it on the butterflies.
 “Oh, hi, Ing,” he tells her as he musters the best grin he can give her right now. “What’s up?”
He keeps a coughing fit in as not to prove the point she’ll inevitably present him with.
“Well, I’d like to know what’s up with you, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” that fit escapes from his throat anyway. A few passers-by stare at them, but Ingrid seem not to give a single damn about that, so he focuses back on her.
“This. You absolutely know what I’m referring to, Sylvain. Quit granting me for dumb.”
Well, what can he reply to that? She’s already had him figured out, as she’s always done. This is getting tough, but he’s always liked having a challenge, hasn’t he?
“What’s ‘this’, huh? I’m afraid I don’t understand!” But he coughs again and his head feels stuffed, heavy on his shoulders, and he can only hope he’s doing a decent job at hiding how it really is on the inside.
“Stop taking me for a fool.”
 He may have known her since they were children, but that doesn’t prevent Ingrid from surprising him and play him like a fiddle. It’s something she has that people who have tried dating him for his heritage doesn’t have: honesty, frankness, an insight into who he is aside from his surname. There’s no point wallowing in that misery, because he knows where he’s going to end up anyway, and spending time with his childhood friend is worth more than what his family wants him to be.
And it’s because Ingrid has known him since she was a little girl that she does the thing nobody would have in the middle of a corridor like that: put the back of her hand on his forehead, keeping his weight in balance as her frown deepens. He’s spotted for sure.
 “Have you still not seen a doctor, Sylvain?! Take your health more seriously than that, you’re going to infect everybody in the school!”
The way she says his name with heavy insistence, a manner unique to her shall he add, as if she was putting a seal on it to enforce her speech, hurts in a strange, agreeable way.
“I thought you’d be the kind to scold me for not attending class.”
“Urgh, don’t try and smooth-talk me out of this! Go back home before you get someone else sick!”
He shrugs.
“If you insist then…!”
 Without a forewarning, his focus having shifted from retaining the cough in to sounding convincing in his, a fit breaks out in his throat, making its way outside, as he finally stumbles out of her grasp. His body falls forward, hands almost failing to catch him before he can entirely meet the floor. It hurts deeply and seemingly doesn’t stop, until he feels something in there wanting to exit.
Kneeling in the middle of a corridor, Ingrid’s hands wrapped around his chest, he puts a hand against his mouth as the trembles racking his chest push against his palm. The thing who wants out eventually does so, spilling between his fingers, and it doesn’t feel like harmless phlegm having formed because of the infection.
 When the fit lets off, Sylvain glances at the contents of his hand, only to realize how deep he’s gone.
Red slips off from his fingers, some dripping onto the floor, and he suddenly feels much sicker than before. No injury has ever made him react this way.
 He glances at Ingrid, panting, to notice her expression has changed from concern to horror. Her mouth is in a sort of awe as she gulps, her hands moving on their own to put his back against the wall while her stare doesn’t let go, eyes trying to search for an answer.
“This is it,” she says with a trembling voice trying to sound steady. “Sylvain, you’re seeing someone, even if you don’t want to.”
Yeah, he wasn’t going to go against that anyway.
 Sounds and images alike grow distant, even Ingrid’s voice as she speaks into her phone with vigour and a sense of urgency, even the irritating noise of his own cough. He’s drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his skin in front of his eyes, the shift in temperatures never letting go and biting harder every time. Pulling his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around his lap, he’s waiting for the moment where the tempest will calm down and allow him to make a run for his life.
The tempest never soothes and, instead, Ingrid’s eyes try digging into his with a sense of desperation, the phone now gone and maybe not even calling anymore.
 “Sylvain, can you hear me?!” She asks with her hands on his shoulders, slightly shaking him in the commotion.
He nods while in the midst of a coughing fit, that phlegm escaping again.
“Thank goodness…” She whispers to herself, before she changes gears entirely. “How the hell were you still standing…?!” She muses as she puts her hand on his forehead again. “It’s risen too… You’re the biggest of fools, Sylvain, do you know that?!”
“Was… aware of that by now…” He tries laughing, but it only comes out as forced. “Keep telling me that…”
“Then apply them, once and for all! Where do you think that brings you?! What the hell is going on in your head?!”
Ingrid looks aside before her glare comes back, eyes shimmering, and the world disappears behind her. Her voice echoes in the distance, yet so near him, anguish painted all over the picture he can make out of her with his tired eyes.
“Why do you always scare me so much, you jerk!”
 His breath is stolen away, lungs locking for a solid moment before he can exhale again. The hands on his shoulders weaken.
“I’m tired of cleaning after your mess, skirt-chasing or not! Even if I tell you crystal-clear, even if I insist on having you finally behave properly, you never take anything seriously and I always have to be behind you so I don’t end up losing you in the long run”
Her finger brushes against his face, right under his mouth, and she shows him a red stain left on her skin.
“This, Sylvain. Do you see it? Do you even know how much hassle you’d avoid for yourself if, for once, you’d take things seriously? If you just listened, we wouldn’t be there!”
“W-well… It’s only my business, right…? I don’t know why you get so worked up for me… Is it because we’re friends…? Are you in love…?”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that dying voice of yours!”
“Oh c’mon, that’s kinda mean…”
“Healthy people don’t cough up blood, you fool! Stop talking about it as if that was just the cold it was two weeks ago!”
“Still… My business, not yours, Ing;” His flirtatious tone is nowhere to be seen.
“It’s my business too because I don’t want to lose you!”
Her voice breaks, a part of his heart follows.
“… I don’t want to lose someone again,” she mutters as her gaze lowers. “Especially not like that.”
The rest of his heart crumbles under the weight of the feelings it stores endlessly.
 He musters what strength he somehow has left, brain almost entirely numbed by a fever blurring his sight and rendering his touch inaccurate, and pulls her against his chest, asking for no cue. There is a puddle of blood in the back of his throat, but he tries smiling if not just for her, and realizes in his daze just how much he’s fucked up.
“It’s not usual for you to lose your composure so much… Ing…” He whispers, the ring of classes beginning drowning in his swimming vision.
She doesn’t reply, her heart almost against his, their beats never matching.
“I’m sorry for worrying you so much, Ing…”
His consciousness is dimming as he sees dots appearing in front of his vision, but not having to retain spitting blood on her.
“Didn’t realize until now… that it mattered to someone…”
 Everything disappears before him before he knows it.
  When he eventually comes to, Sylvain is surprised he’s still actually part of the living world. It’s no better than being a corpse right now, considering his entire body stopped responding efficiently. There’s no distraction when his vision is mostly a black blur, so he has the time and peace of mind to think about how, yeah, this has been a fiasco and he can only blame himself for it. Not like he’s ever blamed anything but fate, the order of things, the world’s strange whims and himself. His business, not his, after all.
It should have only affected him, but then Ingrid burst into his secrecy, and the entire order of things got taken apart.
 His eyelids are heavier than shields and barely open at first, but they eventually allow the light to enter his sight. It hurts at first, worsening the pounding headache settling under his skull’s surface, until he gets over it and observes the change in scenery: this isn’t the corridor where he last spoke to Ingrid. In fact, aside from similar neon lights, it feels different: the smell isn’t the same, the air isn’t the same and, if he glances with how little his neck can move, he can conclude that the furniture isn’t the corridor’s.
Not that it wasn’t a dead giveaway all along, considering he’s lying in an actual bed and not against a wall, and that there are familiar emerald eyes looking in his direction.
 “I… Ing…?” His voice sounds worse than before, it’s like he’s still half-asleep.
“Sylvain,” she replies with a calm voice, her usual stern tone, and he can’t help but smile. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah…” He continues glancing around. “What’s this place…? I don’t recognize it…” He still has the urge to cough, even though it’s less violent than before. That’s a nice change of pace.
“The hospital. Don’t worry, you won’t be here for more than a day or two.”
“…makes sense.”
 The silence following this is only short-lived, as Ingrid picks the ball back up merely moments after, just enough to allow him to cough a little more.
“You’re lucky your life wasn’t directly threatened by what’s festering inside your chest. I was surprised myself how fortunate you’ve been with this.”
“I wouldn’t exactly describe being sick… as lucky, Ing…”
“At least you’re recognizing you are, now. It’s progress, I suppose.”
“How can I deny it when I’m like this?”
“You can’t, and that’s a good thing.”
 She doesn’t look as angry as she did before, but he can still tell she’s got a problem with something. Most likely him.
“Wait, you’re not in class…?”
“I’d like to officially inform you that you made the professor sick with your germs. Fortunately, he was prevented from making class by the collective efforts of Mercedes and the other professors. Which brings me to the point I wanted to discuss with you…”
Here it comes.
“Can this please serve you as a wake-up call, once and for all?”
Huh, that’s less painful than he expected it to be.
“Oh…”
 He’s too tired to play pretend and too conscious of her feelings to pretend like he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. It’s been years since he’s started taking less and less things seriously, to the point his own future is something he’s not worried about for a long time, and he’s just realized how harmful this has always been. He’s something more than his heritage, this he now knows for sure, but this wasn’t the way to go.
This has never been the way to go around with this, and Ingrid has always been right; but he’s been too deaf to hear her until now.
 “I finally see why you’ve been so insistent; or so I think…” He’s not sure of much anymore.
“To say that I had to see you cough up blood to hear you say that…” She sighs. “At least, I can hope this means I won’t always be to be behind you, right?”
“Yeah… Sorry for worrying you all the time, Ing…”
“You better be sorry!”
The small laugh she tries to contain is the cutest thing he’s heard in ages.
“Still… Thanks for always having my back. I don’t thank you nearly enough…”
He’s still weak, this much he can tell by how low and gravely his voice sounds, but he’s grateful and doesn’t want to close his eyes if it’s for her to vanish by the time he awakens.
 This, in itself, reminds him of how much Glenn’s death had an impact on Ingrid back then; and he cannot help but hate a part of himself for failing to notice that before.  
After all, if he wants to win her heart over, he has to take in account her feelings, right? It’s only normal, he has to work more on that.
 “I have to say,” she continues leading their conversation, “you’ve made an effort, recently. I see you flirting with anything that moves less than usual.”
He blinks. He’s surprised, but she’s right: he’s been less preoccupied with girls, recently, but he didn’t think it was actually noticeable. Blame it on the butterflies again. Right now, they’re rampaging throughout his abdomen.
“I just wish you’d be more careful to your actions and yourself, that’s it. I won’t be there to keep you in check, one day, you know.”
“I know… That’s why I didn’t want you to worry, but I guess I couldn’t prevent that…”
He coughs again, the iron aftertaste never letting go, but never coming back either.
“How bold of you to assume you could stop a friend from worrying about you.”
 He wishes they were more than friends, but he’s a coward and she’s too good for him. The irony: she’s the one girl he knows doesn’t hold an interest in him only for his bloodline, and yet she’ll never be more than his childhood friend because she knows him too much to accept dating him, even as a joke.
The red he sees creeping on her cheeks has to be a feverish delirium.
 “Anyway, I hope this bronchitis will make for a good lesson,” she scolds him again.
“Yeah, same,” he replies as he looks back to the ceiling. He hopes the blushing he senses on his own face is hidden by the splotches of fever he could see in the mirror this morning.
His eyelids flutter without his consent, and he sees her less and less per second, having run out of strength to keep himself awake.
“I should let you rest at last,” she eventually says as she begins getting up, which is when he notices her hand leaving his. His skin feels cold again, hair on his arm rising underneath clothes he wasn’t wearing earlier today.
“But… Will you be there, when I’ll wake up…?”
 His question, his façade slipping up and shattering to the ground in its fall, makes her stop in her stead and, instead of facing the door, she turns her head in his direction.
“I’ll try my best. I can’t always be behind you, right?”
“I get it… Have a nice day, Ing…”
“Goodnight, Sylvain,” she tells him as the door opens and closes.
It feels soothing to go back to sleep.
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howrry · 6 years
Text
malibu
i wanna be a writer™ so i wrote this on a whim. enjoy
warning: smut lmao
w/c: 2.7k
You flipped through your Snapchat stories, tapping through videos of your girlfriends dancing in cages at some bar. They'd all invited you to go, but frankly spending money on the cover fee and overpriced, watered-down drinks (only to end up sweating off all your makeup) was starting to get kind of old. And it wasn't exactly like the selection of men in those places was worth all the hassle.
For a brief moment, you wonder what your best friend H is up to, before quickly remembering that he's with his girlfriend Anya. He'd mentioned a few days prior that they'd be going to some house party (which, of course, you mocked him for. Who goes to house parties after 20?).
You liked Anya. She was beautiful yet multifaceted-- she loved playing all kinds of instruments and even impressed you by effortlessly playing a song on a harp that was out at a work get-together. You also learned of her passion for animals, as she'd spent her youth working in and out of animal shelters. She was kind and warm, much like Harry, and her sense of humor was impeccable. She even respected your friendship with H and trusted the both of you. It wasn't often that you supported H's girlfriends, but you really thought he'd hit the nail on the head with her.
You often wondered why you were so critical of his past partners. This one has no fashion sense, that one is too judgmental of H's friends, that one eats a paleo diet and won't shut up about it, on and on. Your other male friends would bring home the trashiest mean girls and you'd high five them like some kind of frat boy, yet you expected some level of perfection with Harry. For the most part, you chalked it up to being so close with him and knowing what he truly deserves. As far as you knew, he deserved Anya.
The marimba tone of your phone spooked you, and you checked it seeing Harry's face pressed up against glass.
"If ya take a picture like this and make it my contact photo, it'll look like 'm trapped in your phone when I call yeh!" He'd giddily explained before smashing his face against the shop window. You couldn't imagine the shop owner was thrilled about having to clean the glass, so you snapped it as quickly as possible before dragging your best friend away.
You smiled at the memory and slid your finger across the screen to answer the call. "Hey, what's up?" you asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with water with your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
"Can we hang t'night?" he muttered without any other introduction.
Your brows furrowed. "Sure, but aren't you supposed to be with An--"
"Change o'plans," he cut you off. "Your place, ten minutes?"
"Sure. See you soon, H." The call cut off before you could even take the phone from your ear. Harry has always been a fast-paced person so you didn't really think much of this.
You drained your glass of water and did some lazy tidying up (not that H would've minded either way, he tended to be just as messy as you). The whole ten minutes hadn't even passed before you heard the powerful knocks at your apartment door.
Upon opening it, he immediately stepped in and engulfed you in a big hug, something not uncommon for him. "How y'doing?"
You pulled away and smiled. "Same as I was earlier today when you called me." You turned around and went back into your living room, him trailing behind you. "Not much excitement going on here, but I figured we could watch Gossip Girl or sommat," you offered, smirking a little. You had shown the series to him a few weeks ago, to his initial disgust.
"It's a bit garbage, don't ya think? It's like New York wankin' itself off," he reprimanded when you'd first suggested it to him. "The plot's fine but its just not realistic. Nobody invests that much time or energy into someone for the sake of gossip." You were ready to accept defeat with this failed recommendation until the next day you walked in on him watching it without you, much to H's chagrin.
"Sounds good, but do you have somethin' t'drink?" he asked, taking off his coat and scarf before tossing them on one of the chairs.
"Water, cranberry juice, I think I have a LaCroix that you left in there last week I refuse to touch..." you listed things that you remember having available, making him smile a little.
"No, no, somethin' more... adult-oriented?" he clarified, following you into the kitchen.
You couldn't help but laugh at his word choice. "I killed off the last of the wine a couple nights ago, but I think I have some Malibu left over, if that's okay?"
His eyebrows knitted together as he leaned back on the counter, arms spread out a little. "Malibu? What are yeh, a little uni party girl?"
"Piss off. You want it or not?" you asked, pulling the handle out of your pantry and presenting it to him like a fancy wine bottle.
Harry bounced off the counter and wrapped his arms around you yet again. "M'sorry, and yes, I would. I'll get the glasses." He knew exactly where all your dishes were and grabbed two identical shot glasses you bought out of impulse. Neither of you two were heavy shot-takers and would rather sip glasses of Chablis and moscato than pound back liquor, but sometimes, like this evening, the purchase proved worth it.
Harry was bartender this evening, and the two of you each tossed back three in a row before you were coughing and scrambling for the aforementioned cranberry juice as a chaser. You drank the juice straight from the bottle while in the meantime, your best friend took two more.
You wiped the juice that had spilled down your chin with the back of your hand and yanked the handle away from him before he could pull another. "Jesus, Harry, slow down. What's with you tonight?"
"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, rubbing his face with his big hands. He took the juice from you and drank some from the bottle just like you did. "Just needed t'get my mind off of work n'life n'whatnot."
"Drowning it in white rum is definitely not the best method. Wanna talk about it?" You screwed the cap back on both the juice and the Malibu and put both away in their respective spots before leading Harry back to the couch.
"Not really. Jus' wanna watch the show." He didn't say much after that, but you trusted him to open up when he was ready, so you didn't push him much further.
Your seating arrangement was fairly normal, Harry taking one side of the small couch and spreading his legs. You sat on the left of him and tucked your knees to your chest as you queued up the episode Victor, Victrola.
Without saying anything, Harry grabbed both your legs and turned you so that your legs were on his lap, making you squeal a little in surprise. This position was tried and true between you and Harry, but it had been retired since Anya came into the picture. While a tiny part of you missed the physical touch between you and your best friend, most of you respected the relationship H had. Afraid of freaking him out and making him push you off, you didn't say anything about this sudden change.
"Y/N, get upppppp," he groaned, attempting to pull the blankets off of you. Fortunately, your death grip on your comforter prevented him from exposing you to your room's cold air.
"I'm tired, and it's so cold out. The park is not going anywhere!" you groaned right back, pushing your face into the pillows even more to block out the sunlight Harry'd introduced to the room when he opened your curtains.
"Okay, then." Harry quite literally jumped into bed with you and wrapped his entire body around you, burying his face in your neck. You cried out at his freezing nose pressing into your warm skin and tried to wriggle away from him, but it was his turn to have a death grip, this time on you. "Nope, not lettin' yeh go now. Wanna stay in bed? Fine, you'll stay in bed."
The two of you watched in silence, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His face was fairly neutral, fixating on the screen with not much visible emotion.
"'S not polite to stare," he muttered, not drawing his eyes away from Blair giving Chuck a dance in the night club.
You inhaled sharply through your nose. "It's also not polite to hide what's wrong from your best friend," you countered, reaching up and turning his head to face you.
He sighed. "Jus' a lot on my mind. Thanks fo' letting me come over, means a lot." He pushed a ring-clad hand through his dark hair to get it out of his face.
"'Course, Harry, that's what I'm here for," you smiled, which you quickly lost when you realized he was leaning in to you. Your best friend, who very much had a girlfriend, was leaning in for a kiss.
You put your entire hand on his face to stop his movements. "What are you doing?" you asked slowly, emphasizing each word. Your hand slowly dropped, and your thumb caught his bottom lip, making it pull down and pop back into place.
"Didn't know yeh were so foreign to the concept, but I'm trying' t'kiss you," he cooed, "and maybe a little more," his big hand gripped your thigh and started sliding inwards, a move that crossed a boundary the two of you had never even come close to.
Once again, your hand stopped his advancements. "Harry, you're drunk, and you have a girlfriend!" You tried to get up off the couch but he grabbed your legs and pulled you even closer to him.
"T'be completely fair, you're drunk too," he giggled, pushing his hair off his face again (and damn him if he wasn't right). "And I don't have a girlfriend anymore."
You reared your head back in shock. "What? When did that happen?"
He shrugged. "Was at a party tonight and I lost her, so when I went looking for her I caught her making out with... with Clare," he spat.
You gasped. "Clare?! I didn't... but I thought... she--"
"Doesn' matter what we thought 'cause we were wrong," he cut you off. "But now that I don't have to worry about tha', all I can think about is how much I wanna kiss you."
You sighed, weighing your options. "You're sure this isn't a heartbroken rebound?" you asked, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his.
He lifted to kiss it, leaving a small wet patch. "'M not that heartbroken anymore, was just in shock. Besides, if it was that, I wouldn't have come here," he paused to stroke your cheek with his free hand. "You mean too much to me to be a rebound." He'd almost seemed disgusted at the idea of you being something so quick and meaningless.
You smiled softly and looked down at your lap, but he caught your chin and lifted you back up. You barely had time to react when he pushed his plushy lips against yours.
He tasted like rum and mint, and his lips were so soft you couldn't help but lean in more. One of his arms snaked around the small of your back and pulled you in closer so you were now fully sitting on his lap. You wrapped one of your arms around his neck and his mouth opened, giving you access to his tongue. The kiss deepened even more, and you decided to get a little bold.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were just drunk on Harry, but your teeth grabbed onto his bottom lip gently and pulled it back before letting go, leaving him pink-cheeked and wide-eyed. "Darling, please, you must let me do more," he croaked, his voice a little hoarse from kissing.
You simply nodded and whispered, "My bedroom?" before he scooped his arms under you and carried you to the bed and tossed you on it.
In two swift moves, he removed your shirt and popped the hooks on your bra, leaving you bare-chested. He didn't have to break the kiss to wiggle down your shorts and underwear, and before you knew it, you were completely naked in front of your best friend. Or, whatever you were now.
The fact that it was Harry was absurd enough, but him being ten times more clothed than you left you feeling surprisingly comfortable. With any other guy, at this point, you'd be awkwardly tugging at his clothes to level the playing field, but you felt no such urges at this point.
And neither did Harry, apparently, as he immediately began kissing and sucking at any skin he could get his lips on, leaving you with wet patches and small hickies all over your chest and neck. Eventually, he sat back on his heels straddling your thighs and was carefully running his hands up your entire body. He started at the sides of your thighs before trailing them up to the swell of your lower belly, up to your breasts (his callouses stimulating your nipples but you managed not to arch your back), to your collarbones and finally resting on your jaw.
You were never quite relaxed when this kind of gaze fell on you, but with your closest friend you'd never felt so comfortable in your life. You smirked a little before asking, "What are you doing?"
He smiled back. "You're just so beautiful. Never though' I'd have you like this 'n now that I do I can barely believe it."
You were touched, but before you could reply he was moving his way back to part your thighs, exposing your center to the cold bedroom air. Harry took his time kissing around your legs, intentionally avoiding the one place you needed contact the most. You moaned softly and started giving into that earlier urge to arch your back, and, hey, who was Harry to deny what you so needed?
He gave no warning before diving into your center, eating with an inexplicable passion. He experimented with what elicited more sounds from you, from flat, soft licks to pointed strokes of his tongue. One of his hands snaked up to play with your breasts while the other held your hand, interlocking your fingers in a way that was almost sweet. Your free hand, however, wasn't quite as pure, as you laced it into his dark curls and used it as a method of grinding down onto his mouth.
"'S right, darling, use me t'get yourself off," he moaned into your pussy, making you gasp.
The sounds coming from Harry and his actions was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and you were so overwhelmed you could barely choke out, "I'm so close, Harry."
This, of course, only spurred him on as his hand left your breast and trailed down to your core. He slipped in two fingers and hooked them up, fully pushing you into your orgasm. You moaned and arched into him and he didn't stop eating until you were trying to pull him off of you by his hair. When you lifted his head with the hand gripping his hair, he came up with a lazy smile on his face, almost childlike. His chin was dripping with your slick.
You were still heaving by the time he crawled back up to lie next to you. "Do you... do you want me to--" you tried to ask in your post-orgasmic haze.
He shook his head. "Nothin' personal, love, but 've had a lot t'drink 'n don't think I could get it up right now," he mumbled before settling into the bed next to you. You couldn't even ask anything else before you heard the soft snoring of your best friend next to you.
Wow, he was really drunk. And, best friend? Was he really that anymore? Could you two even be friends after this? You finally decided that these were morning questions and you'd answer them tomorrow. Imagine your shock, of course, when you woke up the next day and felt around your bed only to find sheets and cold air and no sign of Harry.
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blog-in-a-corner · 6 years
Text
TSOTBL - The Point Of No Return
It was mid-day, the gang was going about their day cleaning the lodge. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not yet anyway.
“Half this place needs to be cleaned and the other half needs to be replaced.” Lucinda commented in disgust, dusting a nightstand. “Yeah well, my dad is made of money so I don’t think he’s going to care too much about that.” Aaron replied, throwing a rag aside. “So how many rooms have we got down?” Kim asked. “Twenty-seven.” Aaron answered.. “......And how many do we have left?” “....seventy-three….” “Ughhhhh.” Lucinda groaned, hitting her head against the wall. “Hey, look on the brightside, at least we’re more than halfway done with the second floor.” Kim stated happily. “Still, I’m tired.” “Let’s finish the three rooms and then we’ll take a break alright?” Aaron suggested. “Alright..” Lucinda muttered, continuing her work.
Once they finished cleaning the other three rooms Aaron, Lucinda and Kim headed back to the waiting room. Garroth was fast asleep.
“Oop, looks like Garroth fell asleep again. I’ll go and wake him up.” Kim said, heading towards Garroth. “Garroth? Garroooth?” Kim whispered, gently rocking his head. “Wake up!” “Gah!” Garroth slightly screamed in surprise. “You scared me! I was-wait, did I fall asleep again?” “Yup.” “Darnit! I just wanted to sit down for a little bit…” “Just do what I’ve been telling you for the past two days and rest!” “No! I’m not even tired anyway! I don’t wanna lay around doing nothing while all of you guys do all of the work.” Garroth explained, as he was in fact, tired. “Are you forgetting I went to medical school? I know for a fact that anyone who has suffered an injury like yours, isn’t not tired after only two days. You’re just faking!” Kim scolded Garroth. “Am not!” “Are too!” “Am not!” “Are too!” “GUYS! Settle down!” Lucinda shouted. “Sorry.” Kim and Garroth mumbled in unison. “Garroth, just do what Kim says and rest please? As energetic as your trying to be, on occasion you lose your composure and I can see that you’re exhausted.” Aaron insisted in worried tone. “I’m not-I just-I...” Garroth sighed, sinking deeper into his chair. “....I guess...I’m a little bit tired.” “Just rest okay?” Aaron asked calmly. “Okay…” Garroth pouted. “Anyways,” Kim announced, grabbing a box from one of the suitcases. “Who wants a granola bar?” “Hey that reminds me, weren’t we supposed to go to the little liquor store or something?” Lucinda questioned. “Yeah that’s right, but first I need to fix the car. Let me go and-” “Hey! A car just came up to the driveway!” Kim claimed, pointing out the half-broken window. “Huh? Let me see.” Aaron said, walking towards the window. “Wait a minute, thats-” “IT’S FREEZING OUT HERE!” a jet-black haired woman said, stepping out of the car. “Sure it’s chilly but-” “CHILLY? YOU THINK IT’S CHILLY? IF I KNEW ANY BETTER I’D SAY YOU’RE FULL OF-” “Aphmau?” Aaron mumbled, stepping out of the lodge. ‘Oh, Aaron-uh, hi!” Aphmau shouted, shivering from the cold. “Hey Aaron.” Zane greeted him casually. “Hey Zane. Do you guys, uh, mind me asking what you guys are doing here?” Aaron asked, bewildered by their sudden appearance. “Oh, well you see, Zane really misses Garroth. So much that I opted to come here with him so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed!” Aphmau answered confidently. “I don’t miss Garroth!” “Yeah you do you just don’t want to admit it!” Aphmau teased, crossing her arms. “Whatever.” Zane grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Ah, I see.” Aaron muttered awkwardly. “B-But um,” Aphmau stuttered, struggling to get her words together. “We’re only going to spend the night! We’ll be in and out of here before you know it! We would’ve called but none of you guys were picking up your phones so….” “Oh yeah I forgot about that little issue of ours. Well come on in before you guys die of frostbite or something.” Aaron stated happily, walking Aphmau and Zane into the lodge. “Hey guys, guess who’s here!” Aaron announced cheerfully. “Aphmau?!” Kim and Lucinda shouted in unison. “ZANE?!” Garroth shouted in surprise. “Oh no-” Zane groaned. “Little brother!” Garroth shouted, as he sprung from his recliner and gave Zane a big hug. “What are you guys doing here?” Lucinda asked in curiosity. “Long story short, Zane misses Garroth, so I came with him so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed.” Aphmau explained rather abruptly. “Is that true? You missed me little brother?” “Agh no I don’t! I was glad you were gone Aphmau just dragged me here! Now let go of me you idiot!” Zane shouted in annoyance, pushing Garroth away. “Don’t worry Garroth. He did miss you he just doesn’t want to admit it.” Aphmau assured confidentially. “Tch.” “How long are you guys going to be here?” Kim questioned. “We’re just going to spend the night.” Aphmau answered. “Ah, okay.” “Well now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way, there is just one thing I want to know.” Aphmau continued. “Where’s the bathroom?” Aaron assumed. “No, well actually, that too. But what I want to ask is, why is Garroth wearing a sling over his left arm?” “Oh. Right. I uh, broke my shoulder.” Garroth answered nervously. “What?! How did you break your shoulder?” Aphmau asked in shock. “Well you see-” “Probably doing something stupid, not that he isn’t always doing something idiotic.” Zane scoffed. “Well, I mean…” Lucinda muttered, looking down. “See? Case closed.” Zane said. “Well um,” Garroth coughed, changing the subject. “All of that aside. Aaron, weren’t you going to go fix the car just now?” “Oh yeah, right.” Aaron remembered. “Wait, what happened to the car?” Aphmau asked. “It broke down somehow. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t fix.” “Well actually, could we maybe use Zane’s car to go to the liquor store while she’s here? We don’t know how long our car will be out of commision and we’re almost out of granola bars..” Lucinda suggested, gesturing to Zane’s car outside. “You guys sure can!” Aphmau announced, grabbing the keys from Zane.. “C’mon everybody hop in the car!” “Hey!” Zane uttered. “Well, might as well go while we can.” Aaron said. “Alright then.” Lucinda joined. “Kim, Garroth, you stay here and keep watch on the lodge alright?” Aaron ordered. “Okay!” They answered in unison. “Alright. Let’s go everybody!” Lucinda shouted, proceeding to exit the lodge.
The small liquor store was just a short drive away. It was most likely built to gather the foot traffic from the Lodge. Not that that was a key factor in its success anymore. The gang made it to the liquor store.
“Here it is.” Aaron stated, getting out of the car. “BunnyHill Liquor Market.” Zane read aloud. “Let’s go get some supplies and food, we’re going to need it.” Lucinda said.
The gang walked into the small liquor store. The inside was filled with aisles of snacks, drinks, liquor, and all sorts of camping supplies. It was very well kept. There was a bored looking meif’wa with light purple hair standing at the register, she didn’t seem to be aware that anyone had just walked into the store.
“Well, uh, let’s all look around shall we?” Aphmau suggested, walking into one of the isles.
They all scattered through different aisles, Aaron grabbed some cleaning supplies and tools while Lucinda grabbed only food that would last the month they were staying. Meanwhile Aphmau and Zane just grabbed a few souvenirs to take home. As soon as everybody was finished getting what they wanted, they all went up to the register to pay.
“Hi! We all just want to pay.” Aphmau stated, putting her groceries on the counter. “Alright. Would you like to-”
Aphmau had only just realized who she was talking to as soon as she heard the cashiers voice.
“M-MICHI?!” “YOU!?” Michi snapped, shocked that she had run into Aphmau again. “W-What are you doing here?!” “What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?” “Well I’m just trying to pay for something and then you showed up!” “And I’m just trying to make a living, deal with it.” Michi retorted snarkily. “Hmph.” Aphmau pouted. “Aph,” Aaron muttered, putting his items on top of the register counter. “C’mon we just gotta pay and then we’re out of here.” “But it’s Michi! She’s the one who-” Aphmau stopped mid sentence. Everyone had gone quiet. “What? What are you….ooooh you mean the pictures! how could I have forgotten.” Michi smirked.
There was an awkward silence between Aphmau, Zane, and Aaron.
“....Do you just forget all of the nasty things you do to people?” Zane told Michi rather coldly. “Ah, well there’s always so much going on in Michi’s life. It gets hard to keep track of everything y’know? Besides why waste my time on the little, insignificant things?” “Why you-” “Hey Michi! Is everything alright-” the freckled, brunet gasped. “CUSTOMERS-real life people are actually here?!” “Yep. I actually know ‘em. We go…..a long way back, so to say.” Michi explained. “Wow!”
He walked towards the gang in enthusiasm.
“Hello! How has your experience been in the store so far?!” “Oh, erm,” Aaron glared at Michi. “It’s been...fine.” “Oh that’s great! How’s your stay at BunnyHill been?” “It’s been nice…” Lucinda looked at the man’s name tag. “...Liochant?” “Yup! I’m the manager of this place. Well, I don’t mean to hassle you folks any longer, you guys can go finish paying for your things.” Liochant expressed in glee.
Lucinda, Aphmau and Zane went up to pay, as unpleasing as it was to see Michi again. Aaron on the other hand, had a question for Liochant.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” “Sure! I know this town like the back of my hand.” “Well-” “OR you can always buy one of the books we have here that goes into the history of good ol’ BunnyHill!” “Thanks, but, no thanks. Anyways what I wanted to say was; is this place dangerous in any way?” “Well, there isn’t really anything I can think of right now, but I do know BunnyHill has one of the largest burial grounds in the country.” “Seriously? Why?” “Well, erm, I...wouldn’t k-know too much about that! I mean, some people even say there should be more graves than there already is, but I-I think that’s just an over exaggeration. I’m sure it was just the ,uh, plague or something. Maybe even the fire nation.” “Ah, I see. Wait did you say the fire-” “But the place is really nice and peaceful, I haven’t seen or heard of an accident of sorts the entire time I’ve lived here.” “Okay, thanks.” “Haha It’s no problem! BunnyHill has always been pretty plain aside from the springtime here.” “Alright Aaron let’s go!” Aphmau announced loudly, hands full of grocery bags. “Okay!” “Have a nice stay!” Liochant shouted, as they were leaving the store. “Well let’s go back to the lodge shall we?” Lucinda asked.
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Meanwhile, Garroth and Kim were resting in the lodge, as there was nothing better to do.
“Ughhh I’m so bored.”Garroth whined, walking around the lobby. “Me too..” Kim muttered, lying down on one of the couches. “Isn’t there anything we can do right now?” “Not really, no.” “Gosh, I can’t wait till everybody comes back from the liquor store...” “I just wish we had internet or service, then I could text one of them to bring me some aspirin, I had forgotten to ask them earlier…” “Aspirin?” “Yeah, ever since yesterday I’ve been getting these really intense headaches…” “Really? What do you think has been causing it?” “I don’t know...but…” “But?...” “Well, I can’t remember anything that happened when I went to go explore the second floor of the lodge yesterday and...I can’t remember anything that happened yesterday morning either.” “Geez, it’s so bad you’re not remembering things?” “No, it doesn’t feel like I’m not remembering things it feels more like..I’m blacking out?” “Huh?” “Like, I’ll just be going about my business and then suddenly everything goes dark. Not really like I’m forgetting about what’s happening.” “I see. How....odd. Do you have any idea what it is?” “A few, but it ranges from bad eating habits to diseases that can kill me so I can’t know for sure without a proper diagnoses.” “I..hope it isn’t anything too bad. I...I wouldn’t want...…I’m sure you’ll be fine!” “You think so?” “I know so!” “Well, thanks for the well wishes Garroth.”
The others had rolled into the driveway just then.
“Oh thank Irene everyone’s back! Let’s go open the door for them.” Garroth cheered in relief.
Garroth and Kim greeted their friends with delight, and they all entered the lodge.
“Wow you guys got a lot of stuff.” Kim thought aloud. “Yeah, I was surprised at how much stuff there was.” Lucinda commented, setting the groceries down. “How was the liquor store anyway?” Garroth asked in curiosity. “It was okay. We walked into a...not-so-pleasant familiar face.” Aphmau mumbled. “Well we’re just glad you guys are back.” Garroth smiled. “It’s a shame you’re only staying for the night.” Lucinda mentioned, then looked to Zane. “Well, it’s a shame that Aphmau isn’t staying for the night.” “Tch. Not like I even want to be here.” Zane sneered. “Well!” Aphmau shouted, holding up a small box. “Who wants hot coco!?”
Everybody drank their coco and set out their sleeping bags, they would have slept in the newly cleaned rooms, but Garroth opted that they all sleep in the same room. Mostly because Garroth still had to sleep in a recliner and he didn’t want to sleep in the waiting room alone.
“Well today has been a fun day!” Aphmau announced in glee, setting her coco mug aside. “I hope we didn’t cause too much trouble by coming so unexpectedly.” “It was no trouble at all. If anything, it was a great deal of help being able to use your car to go and stock up for our stay in the lodge.” Kim assured. “Funny that they took Zane’s car. Zane is always mooching off me for gas money, I’m surprised Aphmau didn’t go broke by the time they both got here..” “I’m not always asking you for gas money!” Zane claimed in annoyance. “Suuuure, and I’ve never had a girlfriend in my entire life.” “Why you-arghhh!” Zane growled, turning away from Garroth’s direction and pulling his blanket over his head. “Well, Zane makes a good example. We should all be heading to bed.” Aaron stated. “Alright. Goodnight guys!” Aphmau said happily. “Goodnight!” “Night!” “Goodnight!” “Aphmau, uh by the way…” Aaron muttered. “Yeah?” “It’s been nice having you here.” “Ah, well…it’s been nice to see you as well.” “Anyways, goodnight.” “...Night.”
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It was midnight, everybody had fallen asleep by now, but none of them would be aware of the approaching danger in the days soon to come.
“After all of these years you’ve finally returned to the very place you once escaped. Born to suffer an ill fate from the start…” A figure cloaked in black said, staring at the lodge from afar.
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The next morning, Aphmau and Zane were all set to leave. Aaron, Lucinda, Garroth and Kim had all walked them out to say goodbye. Except there was only one problem.
“Oh no…..” Aphmau mumbled in a low voice. “Huh? What is it?” Aaron asked. “My car it…..won’t start…”
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yumenosakiacademy · 5 years
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tldr: i hav 2 take my driving test tomorrow and wake up early again bc of the stupid driving company making a mistake (writing the wrong date down by accident n never doublechecking/realizing in the TWO weeks they had) n they dont except refunds (bc theyre disgusting and running a scummy business, w how much theyve effed up)
that fucking shithole of a driving company told us “oh sry we wrote down the wrong date so u hav to do ur test at a later date aka tomorrow <:9″ and this is the third (3rd) time theyve wronged us(guy arrived late one day then they rescheduled last minute for one of my lessons (they literally called the Night before the lesson)) and im so angry bc i dont wanna lose more sleep 2mrw like 2day n i was like “nana this is effed up i demand a refund. let’s call them. dad can take me on saturday for Free” (bc nana paid $85 for this guy to drive me to the test bc she sucks ass and is stupid as hell) but nana said their policy says no refunds like... excuse me? excuse me?? THEY messed up and we still have to pay even when we’re Done w them??? 
and nana said that we cant just take her car to the test today bc “im not used to the car n prob cant use it” bc the last time i used her car i did badly bc i was angry that she forced me to drive her somewhere after id JUST had a driving lesson like 10 minutes prior (also i 1. hate nana so i hated driving w her 2. wasnt used to her car’s shape/sensitive gas pedal) n she told me no even after i suggested we drive around w her car a lil so i can get a lil used to it b4 going to the test n we got into an argument bc i was PISSED and screaming bc i HATED this stupid motherfucking company for being a scam fuckover and that we should Demand a refund no matter what n i dont wanna wake up early 2mrw n lose more sleep n she was liike “well mayb u should go to bed earlier then” all haughty as if it’s even easy for me to fall asleep, like the other night when i felt tired n had a FEVER n tried 2 go to bed 3 hrs early n laid there for over an hr/hr n a half bc my body just cant fall asleep like!! it’s not that simple!! n bc i was rightfully angry but to the point of yelling bc i was so angry, she kept calling me a baby and (in a mocking tone) “aw, does baby need its bottle? or its diaper changed~?” and i swear to god i wanted to punch her. i was willing. she does that shit all the TIME to rile ppl up and i hate her so much and i kept telling her to shut up n she was all “do u think it’s fair to scream [at her?] bc of this grow up yknow what u need to do? grow up n come into reality n get a JOB n wake up at 8 am for SCHOOL” bc she makes every conversation somehow abt me getting a job/going to college (die) and i was screeching and angry and clenching my fist 
and mom came in to yell at me to stop and i closed the door on her saying it was OUR discussion bc it rly was and i told mom what happened n she was kinda pissed too n shared the sentiment of just having dad take me but told me to calm down n cmon n i was like “I WANNA SLAP THEM SILLY” n my fist was clenched n i was shaking w anger n prob abt to cry bc yelling does tht to me n she was like “that’s alright/fine” or w.e said in her own terms n nana was like “that’s actually Not fine--” but mom ushered me out of the room n back to dad’s bedroom while reasssuring nana that i was going/done as if i was some hassle or dumb problem and i was kinda annoyed by that but i Was being a dumb ball of rage but anyway that driving company doesnt deserve our family’s money n nana is a dumb piece of impatient and money-wasting SHIT i stand by that, bitch.
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