#i loved watching the imitation game

[linusbenjamin]

Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing The Imitation Game (2014) dir. Morten Tyldum

[that-darn-clown]

thought about Claire in the Rewrite...haunts the fucking narrative if you think about it (she was effectively the first domino of William's downward mental spiral, and while Elizabeth's death was the death that started the chain of events in the Rewrite, you could technically count Claire's death as being the catalyst for all of this).

like. she and William met in college, just a week after William realized he was bi. Claire herself, though she didn't know it, was aro, but wanted a relationship because A) she wants kids (like genuinely), and B), she believes it's what's expected of her. she's also, unknowingly, transmasc. which technically makes her a gay aro trans guy, but she never got a chance to really...realize that. she always felt this odd envy of Henry. she was one of the first few people to find out, after all. but she never understood why.

(insert the "gee, Rewrite!Will, why does Dandy let you have two (technical) transmasc love interests?" meme here)

(also, isn't it interesting how the animatronic William made to represent her was an ambiguously gendered, but more masc-leaning, fox that was a comedian? a dream of hers? a career that she was practically barred from chasing?)

this isn't to say she didn't love William, not at all. just not...romantically. she viewed it as just being legally bound to a friend (as well as a way to be a mother. because William was also very interested in having children).

she also eventually believed that, in a sense, they were in a Lavender Marriage. mostly because Will was not at all being subtle that he was still in love with Henry. like not even remotely. (fun fact for you: neither Claire nor Annabeth were mad about this, surprisingly! Claire due to the fact that, as mentioned before, she viewed Will as a friend more than anything else, so she didn't really feel like she was being cheated on or anything. Annabeth was more because A) she's a lesbian and so she was never attracted to Henry like that in the first place, even if she didn't realize it until later, and B) she was more upset that Henry was that oblivious. like. Henry. he's asking y'all to discreetly ship your fursonas together, and his fursona's just basically him...just to name one of the biggest things here)

and so things are going well. business is booming at Fredbear's, and Claire gives birth to four beautiful children: Alexander, Michael (named Michel at the time), Evan, and Elizabeth. it looks like things are only looking up for the Aftons.

then Claire gets pregnant with Cassidy.

at first, everything seems fine. she gets morning sickness, they find out they're having a fifth child...why wouldn't they get excited?

but then she starts getting weaker. something that hasn't happened since she got pregnant with Alex. but even then...it had turned out to be nothing. she had gotten over it after Alex was born. so, that's what she and William assume it is. when doctors express concern over it, she brushes them off. she was fine last time, why wouldn't she be fine now?

then it starts getting worse over the next few months. the doctors deliver the bad news: it's not good. they've pretty much passed the point where they can help her in a way that would allow both Claire and her son to live. there's a high likelihood that if she carries Cassidy til the end of the pregnancy...she likely won't live to watch him grow up.

but there's...a small problem. Claire had been raised to believe that if a woman got pregnant, she had to carry that baby until it either died naturally or was born. and even though she knows, logically, that Will likely wouldn't judge her or anything if they had to terminate the pregnancy to save her life, that belief that she'd be fucking horrible for even so much as considering this is deeply ingrained in her. so she decides that she'll see this through. if she makes it through, then she'll make it. if she dies, she dies.

she doesn't say a word to William about what the doctor said. she keeps getting weaker and weaker, enough so that William's family points it out on (what would become) their last visit.

and then Cassidy is born. the next day and a half is rough.

then it happens. William takes Mike to see his baby brother. Evan and Liz are staying with Henry and his family, waiting for their family to get home from the hospital. Alex stays by his mother's side the whole time. he was always a Mama's Boy.

his mother, dying, tells him that she loves him and that she's proud of him, and to look after his siblings. William is alerted of the fact that his wife is dying, and he rushes back to the room. he gives her a kiss on the head, and she tells him, too that she loves him.

Claire takes his hand and kisses it, telling him one final thing:

"Look after the kids for me, will you?"

and that was it. she passed on.

(and William took her final request a tad bit too seriously)

Bonus Scene for you, bestie:

Claire, in the afterlife: Oh, Charlie! Everyone's been telling me about Cassidy and Will...where are they? I'm a bit surprised I haven't seen them yet...are they lagging behind a bit?

Charlie:

Charlie: Dad, I think I'll let you handle this one-

Screaming crying and throwing up in the club at this. Rip Claire you would've loved hrt

[kazz-brekker]

been very slowly watching the movie the last duel in between work shifts for the last fays and i respect that unlike other period dramas that try to make people attractive and dressed in a way that appeals to modern viewers this one is just gives all the men absolutely terrible haircuts and covers them in dirt. other thoughts include: i greatly enjoy when movies are split into chapters and also told from the perspective of unreliable narrators so this is up my alley, jodie comer is ethereal and i'm obsessed with marguerite's hairstyle with the hoops of braids around her ears, ben affleck is honestly giving an extremely good performance as a medieval airhead, the lack of commitment to accent is STUNNING (there has been MAYBE one character who had a french accent?? but she only had one line of dialogue so it was hard to tell) and this movie is mostly very grim and heavy but i find a measure of entertainment in watching the king of france's expressions whenever he turns up and how obvious it is he just really wants to watch two guys fight to the death.

[sttoru]

Can we have mamaguro and toji go to megumis school sports day event where the kids parents go against each other. Mamaguro wins amongst that games thats for mama's. And well toji yk guys 🙏🏼🤲🙏🏼

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff, one mention of angsty-ish thing. suggestive comment. reader gets called ‘mama / ma, pretty’

“woah, mama’s so fast!” megumi points at you with his tiny finger, watching as you participate in a 400 metres relay race. toji stands right beside the preschooler, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you go.

to say you’re competitive is an understatement. both toji and you have done your best to win all events the parents could participate in during your kid’s sports event. it may not be that serious to the other parents, though for you two, it is.

seeing megumi’s face light up and hearing his giggles whenever toji or you win a competition is all the reward needed for your hard work.

“oh yeah, y’r mama is gonna get that win,” your husband nods proudly. he crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes following your figure as you speed across the other mothers that are participating. toji’s attention is caught by a little hand tugging at his sweatpants.

he raises an eyebrow as he sees the way megumi’s reaching his arms out to him. “hah, little brat. c’mere,” toji lets out a chuckle before scooping megumi up, placing the clingy preschooler on his shoulders.

your gaze is set right ahead, body moving as quick as it could. your ears pick up on two familiar voices, your eyes catching a glimpse of toji and megumi at the sidelines. you smile at the two while you run. you don’t have to look back to keep track of where your opponents are. you’re too fast for them anyway.

“yeahhh, tha’s my fuckin’ wife!” toji yells above everyone else, embarrassing you a little. though, it sure did boost your energy levels and your legs move in an even faster tempo. the other parents look at toji with a frown, some whisper about his vulgar choice of words around little children, but he simply couldn’t care less.

megumi tries to imitate his dad and throws his hands in the air, waving at you with a big smile. “that’s my mama!” the little child shouts at the top of his lungs, having the time of his life. he’s been having fun all day with toji and you, his popularity under his classmates increasing because of the outstanding performances of his parents.

you laugh to yourself as you hear their encouragements. you glance over at them as they stand near the finish line, just waiting for you to pass over it. you wave at them whilst you’re running and watch as megumi happily waves back with both arms.

“mamaaaaa!” the small boy squeals, kicking his legs. he looks at you with big, sparkling eyes—cheering once you cross over the finish line. toji joins in and whistles, impressed by your performance. he walks over to you as you catch your breath.

“how’d i do?” you ask your husband with a smirk. toji nods, humming in satisfaction. he feels megumi squirm around on his shoulders, so he lets the preschooler down. toji faces you again and pinches your cheek in a loving yet teasing gesture, “amazing, ma. y’ did well.”

megumi runs up to you once he’s free and hugs your leg. you giggle and crouch down to hug him. “mama’s so fast. and so cool,” your son exclaims and mimics how you ran, making noises to indicate how fast you were going, “like—woosh, woosh!”

“haha, thank you,” you giggle and kiss megumi’s forehead. a teacher comes up to you and gives you your gold medal for winning first place, a big number one on the middle of the metal. you put the medal around megumi’s neck instead, clearly seeing his eyes light up once you do.

toji follows the gesture and puts all the medals he’s won around his son’s neck as well. those were quite a few since toji’s competitve and athletic self had won every round of the parent matches he’s participated on. out of all the dads present, he’s won most games.

“there y’ go,” toji comments in a proud tone. megumi laughs happily and jumps up and down in place to show his excitement. he sees a couple of his friends nearby and scurries over to them, going to brag about how he’s got the best parents.

your husband hands you a bottle while he keeps an eye on megumi. “thank you,” you nod and take a couple sips of the refreshing cold water. you catch toji glancing at you, looking you up and down. that’s when you already know that whatever’s going to come from his mouth, is going to be out of pocket.

“y’know, while ya ran out there, i couldn’t help but stare at that fat ass of—“

you smack toji’s chest, a warning for him to not finish that sentence. you’re too embarrassed by his words to even look at him properly. “don’t say such stuff in front of literal children,” you whisper shout with a flustered expression on your face.

toji playfully rolls his eyes at your comment. he wanted to give your behind a smack - an appreciative ‘well done’ gesture - but he refrains from doing so. he wraps an arm around your waist instead and squeezes your side.

“ugh maaann, who cares about these little brats,” toji complains and leans his head down to your level, kissing your temples gently. he smirks and gives your lips a quick kiss, “i just wanna appreciate my sexy wife.”

you can’t help but crack a faint smile after toji’s last comment. you kiss him back quickly, keeping an eye out on your son, who’s cluelessly showing his classmates all the medals around his neck.

“we made the kid quite popular,” toji hums as he sees the same thing you have. it warms his heart to see his son enjoy his childhood like this. so carefree, so loved. megumi’s got both of you, both loving parents, which brings the dark-haired man a sense of peace.

toji’s glad that he can give his son everything he couldn’t have as a child. that also means participating in megumi’s school events and the like of it. he’s never had anyone supporting him as a kid and he never wants the same to happen to your child.

“yeah, he deserves it,” you say with a fond smile. as long as megumi’s protected and loved, the rest is fine. you’re glad that he’s taking the opportunity to interact with his classmates, considering he’s usually a bit shy and quiet.

while you’re watching megumi, toji’s staring at you. there’s a subtle smile tugging at his lips because of your own content expression. he looks back at his kid and sighs in relief.

all that hard work was worth it if it meant to have both his wife and son enjoy themselves.

[paintingpuff]

So with the terrible Minecraft movie trailer dropping,

I've seen a lot of people bringing up better stories in the world of Minecraft, like Story Mode or the books or the SMPs, but may I add another option that would be a way better use of your time and money than the Minecraft movie (esp cuz its free)?

Animation Vs. Minecraft

(Note: contains out of context spoilers for this series to give you a sneak peek of what's waiting for you)

There's a good chance you've seen the first video, since it's one of the most watched minecraft videos on youtube, made by the same guy who did Animation vs Animator.

But did you know that the stick figures pick the game back up and continue the series?

There are now three completed seasons packed with fun episodic content that naturally blossoms into a larger, engrossing story that amounts to /several hours of animated content/. It's got fun characters, gorgeous fight scenes, and even musical numbers, all told with next to no dialogue!

The whole thing is a love letter to Minecraft, with way more passion and knowledge of the game than WBS.

New episodes would show off the latest updates, like when the main characters explored the ancient cities and lush caves before they were officially released.

There are even homages to the Minecraft animation community, such as the episode featuring Monster School (my favorite part of this is the way they purposefully imitate the old janky animation in Herobrine's movements)

Not a fan of piglins always being villains? While there's certainly some bad piglins in this series (though I'd argue they're under duress), the main cast also befriends some, include this adorable piglin child.

Still not over Reuben's death from MSM? Well they've also got a pig (named Reuben by the community), and it both doesn't die, and occasionally does some badassery himself!

Speaking of the action, this series doesn't just reference minecraft's world and creatures: it expands on the mechanics and worldbuilding, creating avenues for some truly incredible action that can only be achieved within minecraft. It takes full advantage of the medium and world.

My personal favorite example of this is the team's expansion on the Lucky Blocks mod, exploring the idea of a "randomizer" power to its fullest extent.

The action scenes are the kind where you have to watch them five times over because each character is doing something completely unique and fun.

Here is all the episodes of season 1 compiled in one video to get you started, though there are also playlists out there:

All in all, this series is funny, gripping, and adorable, and is worth your attention far better than some corporate schlock.

[gilverrwrites]

Discretely touching them down there to their parts and gently squeezing when no one is looking and them not being able to do anything (since it's in public).

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy. AN: Anon you're a menace and I love ya!

Bruce

You get exactly one, which he acknowledges with a stern pout and a cocked brow. Flawlessly concealing the fire you’ve ignited but for his laboured breathing and blown-out pupils. You’re walking a thin line, behaving like a brat in front of Gotham’s elite.

If he sees you reaching for him again, and trust, he will see; it will take him precisely 0.8 seconds to lock you in an unsuspecting death grip and pull you close. He wants you to feel the increased tempo of his heart against your chest. To feel the growing stiffness of his hard-on grazing your hip as he tells you assertively to; “Behave.”  

Dick

Dick sees your game; he raises you tenfold. He knows you’re up to something when he clocks the determined bite of your lips as you survey the subway car, and the mischievous glint in your eye as you look back at him. When your hand snakes under this shirt, caressing his v-lines, he juts his hips forward, presenting himself to you; daring you to take it further.

When you sink your fingers below his waistband he sucks in a deliberately loud breath. You freeze to survey your surroundings, but Dick does not. Dick starts grinding on you until he senses you growing nervous. He locks a sturdy hand around your elbow just in time to prevent you from pulling away, leans in close and whispers; “What’s wrong baby? Thought you wanted to play?”

Jason

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You giggle at your own joke, because Jason is always packing some form of heat. He might have laughed too, might have trapped your wrist in his hands and rocked against your outstretched palm if you’d been at home, or the club, or even the casino. But not the fucking grocery store, you little perv.  

“Are you drunk?” He offers you an out, glaring down at you with a gaze fierce enough to make a nun blush. You respond with a brazen-faced shake of your head, and he can’t help but imitate it out of disbelief at your cocky attitude. You stay like that, locked in a stare of, rock vs hard place, until Jason cracks first, noticing a couple rounding the corner at the other end of the aisle.

He grabs your arm with an unapologetic level of force, spinning you around and trapping you between his body and the trolley. Hiding his hardness by pressing it against your back. “You’re in for it later.”

Tim

Tim is the most taken aback. His pale blue eyes are rapidly examining your surroundings the moment he feels your devious fingers ghosting over the top of his thigh. He’s cute when he’s flustered, with pink cheeks and blown-out pupils. Nobody is looking, too focused on the conference speaker.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, but before he can get his words out, your hand is gone, casually pulling a non-existent thread from your sleeve.

You don’t reply, you just smile and shoot him a playful wink which puts him even more on edge. So much so that when you abruptly return, this time cupping his half-hard cock through his jeans that he fucking flinches. His knee hits the chair in front, and he sucks in a loud breath, earning him many pointed glares from multiple members of the audience.

“Babe.” Be tries to warn, but his hushed breathy tone makes him sound exactly as aroused as he feels.

Roy

You get it, you do. It was a long trip, and he’s starving but you’ve really been feeling his absence over the last few weeks, and the fact that you’re currently sat in a Burrito Bucket, watching Roy devour a tray of tacos, instead of being at home and watching him devour you, is a problem.

He seems to have noticed your sulking, but too late. “You okay ho- “

His question is halted by your foot tactfully situating itself between his legs. His gaze flits between his food and you, defiant eyes watching you through a mop of shaggy hair. A knowing grin spreads across his queso-stained lips as you answer faux-sweetly. “I’m fine, baby.”

“Right.” He huffs, breath hitching, freckled cheeks turning red when you press your toes down and something firm pushes back. He knows what you want, but he just loves to play dumb. So, he takes another bite, jerking every time you tap or roll your foot but never acknowledging what you’re silently begging for. “Is this one of those things where you say you’re fine, but actually you’re not fine?”

“I’m going home.” You finally concede with an exaggerated sigh, dropping your foot back to the floor and gathering your things.

“I’m coming with you.” He’s on you the moment you stand, draping his arm over you and placing kisses to the side of your neck, your face, whatever he can reach as you struggle to move with his deadweight over your shoulders. Notably, there’s still half a tray of uneaten tacos left on the table. “Funnily enough, I’m hungry for something else now.”

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[moonstruckme]

rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!

Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words

You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 

“Hey!” 

You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 

“Want a lift?” 

“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 

James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 

“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 

“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 

James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 

Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 

“How was work?” he asks you. 

“It was fine. How were your matches?” 

“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”

He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 

Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 

“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 

You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 

Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 

“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 

James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 

“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 

“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 

“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 

James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 

“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 

You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 

He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.” 

[soobnny]

dating him | han jisung

❝ you found my heart broken and you helped me make it whole again ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | HAN | felix | seungmin | jeongin

i think you’re a second love type situation for han jisung

the one where he thought he’d never recover from his first heartbreak

but then here u come

i think han’s the type of person to feel everything

if he’s in love, he’s in LOVE

and if he’s hurt, it would just be overwhelming pain

so imagine how he was when he got his first heartbreak

he’d lose a little bit of his spark

maybe keep to himself even more than he used to

u come to his life in the form of a friend first

and han has unknowingly planted a seed that’s grown and grown and grown

with every interaction

with every laugh you’ve brought back

with every moment he was coming out of his shell again

until it’s fully bloomed into a love that’s very very real and very very present

han jisung would also love so beautifully

he knows what it’s like to be hurt, and he doesn’t ever want u to feel that same pain

he rly makes efforts

he is FULL of efforts

and he makes u laugh ☹️☹️☹️☹️

he communicates

and when the boys finally meet u, they’re very grateful but also

????!!!! why do u they know ur favorite color

and ur go-to order at the cafe

and the hoodie u like to steal from jisung the most

well turns out, han loves talking about u to his friends

they just know everything about u before even meeting u

he’d get rly shy about it but never embarrassed

he’d tell the whole world about u if he could

what else can i tell u

han jisung is just someone where nothing sounds crazy to him

so i think all ur dates with him would be so fun and adventurous lowk

amusement parks !!!!!

ice skating and roller blading

both of u would fall on ur ass

but you’d also laugh so much and somehow that makes up for everything

you’d be holding hands and skating with each other and looking at each other with lovesick smiles

I FEEL SICK!!!!!!!!

he’s always trying to impress u too

he tries to imitate figure skaters

kids don’t try this at home

ofc he fails miserably

obvious blushes when you’d tell him he was cute for trying

or when you’d praise him

anyways when i said he’s always trying to impress u i mean ALWAYS

he treats the relationship like he’s still pining after you

being the standard fr

he never lets go of the love

sometimes he’d still get shy to ask u out

somehow he doesn’t believe u actually said yes to him

he thinks he’s the luckiest boy

anyways, aside from adventurous dates, he equally values his inside time and quieter dates

he’s thankful u understand his shifts in his energy

on days u stay inside, you’d probably watch horror movies

look…. he suggests it….

it looked cool in his head to be all protective

you’d hold onto his arm when the jumpscares come

but

womp womp

he ends up being more afraid than u

and now HE’S holding ur arm

yeah it looked way cooler in his head

you’d play silly little board games together

or maybe charades

he’s so easily amused by sexual innuendos

he’s just a man guys

anyways

there are two things he loves to steal from u the most

aside from ur kisses

and it’s (1) ur perfume and (2) ur lip balm

u’d catch him putting on ur perfume just bc he wants to be surrounded by ur scent

it’s very comforting

one time, he was sick and the boys were taking care of him

and when u finally had time to take over and care for ur bf

u just …. smell ur perfume

“did you put on my perfume?”

“i missed you ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

DOWN BADDDDD

he’s so pouty and so cute

let’s suffocate him with the pillow

KIDDINGGGGGG KIDDING

and then ur lip balm

sometimes he steals the actual thing

sometimes he kisses you so he can have it on his lips too

han jisung is also the type to avail every possible couple coupon

and he’s always begging the cashiers to let u prove u’re a couple

it’s so he has an excuse to kiss you

so

months into dating him also means a thousand love letters

he loves writing u love letters

and u know sooner that he also writes songs

on ur anniversary, he reveals a song he’s written for you

and when he proposes, he tells u about every single one he’d ever written about you and for you

wish that were me 😂😂😂😂😂

TAKE CARE OF HIM

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[sectumsempraaa]

Drowning Lessons

Pairing: Theo Nott x fem!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Featuring: Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: fear/phobia of water and swimming, traumatic memories, physical pain, freefalling, panic, severe weather

A/N: you GUYSSSS i missed you!! i have been away for a minute because… i met someone 🤭 but we’re back in the saddle now, working thru requests!

Summary: After a rip current incident when you were younger, you’ve lived your life deeply afraid of the water, vowing never to swim again. But when a lesson in Magical Creatures leaves you stranded in the black lake, your boyfriend Theo comes to the rescue.

“Never have I ever… got stuck underwater.” Pansy jokes, calling you out in front of your friend group. You sigh and roll your eyes, putting a finger down as the game instructs.

“Come on, Pans. That’s low.” Theo says, a stern tone emitting from him. “You know what happened.”

“Actually, I don’t! Y/N here would never tell me such secrets.” She playfully nudges your arm with her elbow, encouraging you to speak.

Theo notices your breath quickening as you attempt to swallow your nerves and reaches an affectionate hand to rub your shoulder in comfort.

The unwelcome memory snaps back to you, triggered by Pansy’s jab. You, a rip current, and the American sun. As a young girl, you had been swimming around in the ocean on a trip to California when a current pulled you under and whipped you around senseless.

No matter how far you reached your hands, they could never find the surface. You were convinced it was the end until a lifeguard raised you from the water and carried you to shore.

Unfortunately, your lungs suffered some minor damage. To this day, you get short-breathed easily, especially when you start to panic. It’s nothing too serious, but noticeable enough to your friends and Theo.

“Don’t listen to her, bella. She’s drunk.” Theo comforts you, his voice competing with the sounds of the party. You nod and give him a small smile, hoping everyone will just forget about this moment.

“Your turn, baby.” Theo kisses your cheek, easily bringing your good mood back. You reach a hand to rest on his knee, letting him know your appreciation.

“Hmm…” you think hard, attempting to give Pansy a taste of her own medicine. “Never have I ever… had a wet dream about a teacher.”

You smirk, knowing you hit it right on the mark. The group collectively drop their jaws, Theo’s hand grabbing your thigh in surprise.

“That was ONE time! And how do you know it was even a teacher?!” Pansy snarls, becoming fiercely defensive.

Mattheo pipes in, imitating Pansy. “Oh, Professor Lockhart, right there! Yes!” Pansy hits Mattheo over the side of the head, giving him a scowl and spewing profanities his way. Theo laughs uncontrollably, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Damn, principessa,” Theo says, his words laced with pride. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

You smile, shaking off any remnants of your panic and settle back into the party. For the rest of the night, everyone plays nice.

—

Later that week, you found yourself outside for Magical Creatures class. You watch on in awe as Hagrid presents a hippogriff to the class. You’re intrigued by the creature, the beauty of her feathers fanning out and her graceful strength striking to you.

Each student is to take a turn with her this week, bowing to and exploring their interactions with her. You are a gentle, animal-loving soul and she senses it as she immediately bows back to you.

You step forward, her beak nudging your ribs while you pet her. A small laugh escapes your mouth as you stumble backwards, quickly regaining your balance.

“Such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” You sing, stealing a glance at Theo who, like the rest of the class, is looking at you like you’re the damn bird whisperer. He nods, gesturing over to where Hagrid is standing.

“Aye, I think she likes ya. Care for a flight today, Y/N?” Hagrid asks, encouraging you to engage further with the creature.

Before you can even answer, she lowers herself to your height, inviting you to climb on. A pang of hesitancy hits your gut, your body and mind wanting two different things.

Theo approaches her from behind so as not to be noticed by her. He grips your hips, lifting and guiding you to her back.

He senses your nerves, whispering a thought before you take off. “Careful, cara mia. I need you in one piece.” He winks, stepping back to where the class is.

Once you’re up in the air and soaring around, you get comfortable with the height and let yourself enjoy the flight. It’s not every day you bond with a hippogriff.

Your hands are white knuckling but your face relaxes into a basking smile, taking the time to give her pets as she flies you around the circumference of the castle.

The wind picks up a bit, feeling cool and refreshing on your face. But it turns into more than just a breeze, as you feel a few droplets of rain cascading down your skin.

Down on the ground, Lorenzo nudges Theo’s arm with his elbow, holding out his hand to bring Theo’s attention to the rain. The alarm in his voice becomes apparent as he speaks to Theo.

“Hey mate, we best get your girl down. This isn’t looking too promising.”

Within seconds, a slight drizzle becomes harsh, thrashing sheets of rain. Unsure of how to land, you attempt to push down on your hippogriff’s back, signaling her to descend.

It was all so fast, the way a few drops of water became like bullets. The wind changing direction every few seconds starts to disorient you as you struggle more and more to hold on. Down below, Hagrid instructs the class to head indoors.

But before you even get a chance to land, a sudden clad of thunder erupts, blasting in your ears with your close proximity to the sky.

You can feel her panic beneath you as you try to soothe her and talk her down. Another clad. And another. She screeches just as she takes a turn over the black lake.

Theo storms over to where Hagrid is, a threat like hell lacing his words and crimson red burning in his eyes.

“GET HER DOWN, NOW.” If you weren’t so close to the roaring thunder, you’d have heard him repeat this several times in angsty Italian.

And then it all snapped. A bolt of lightning strikes the Whomping Willow in the distance, scaring your hippogriff so badly she bucks you off, jolting you off her side.

It takes a second for you to realize you’re free falling dozens of feet towards the water with nothing to stop you, almost like in slow motion.

On the ground, panic stirs wildly as Hagrid tries to lure her down with meat, which works… for her. The creature makes a near-crash landing close to Hagrid’s hut.

But Theo’s heart drops into his stomach as he notices the empty spot on her back where you’re supposed to be.

His heart races as he searches the sky for a sign of you, unable to move from his spot. Then, you appear, and the sight of you falling from the clouds utterly paralyzes him.

The sound of your scream prompts him back to reality, urging him to take action. The last thing you hear before you crash into the water is Theo’s horrified voice yelling your name.

“SHE CAN’T BE IN THE WATER!” he shouts at Hagrid through the relentless, howling storm as he shoves the professor out of the way.

Then… silence.

The pain of a thousand needles pierces your skin, the freezing water enveloping your body in a rigid embrace. The burn from the crash lingers for a while on your skin as your brain catches up with the moment.

Slowly, your eyes open to the dark and murky scene around you, your vision slightly delayed.

Once you realize you’re under, you actually have a moment of peace. Maybe it was the way your body stilled after the impact, maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was you coming to terms with this scenario once again.

It’s starting to feel like fate.

Your arms float above you as you feel your lungs start to tighten. Then it all comes back to you, the trauma of it causing you to stir and thrash in the water.

Your lack of swimming skills is regretful now as you try to raise yourself to the surface. You helplessly grab onto plants and rocks for leverage, something falls into your hand, but ultimately nothing in your reach seems to work.

Suddenly, an arm grabs your waist with urgency, causing you to scream beneath the water, the air bubbles rising from your mouth. Another hand reaches up to cover your mouth, urging you to breathe.

When your eyes meet his, you wonder how they can still appear so crystal blue in such grim conditions. He shakes his head and points to his chest, as if to say, “It’s me.”

You wrap your arm around his neck as he pulls you up, making each second count. When you reach the surface, your lungs start to contract wildly, desperately trying to catch up on oxygen.

Your vision is still blurred and your head is still in a haze when you feel his arms wrap under your legs to lift you up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Theo curses under his breath as he carries you to land. He yells out to someone as he gently rests you down on the ground. “Get Pomfrey, NOW!”

You’ve never heard his voice so urgent, so demanding. And he wouldn’t tell you this, but deep down, he knows he’s never been this scared before in his life.

You stir beneath him, fiddling the grass around in your fingers as your breath slowly begins to level again. “Theo…” you start, barely able to get the words out.

“Ssshh, mi amore, you’re okay. Don’t speak, just look at me, okay?” He asks, earning a painful nod from you in return. You can’t help but notice how both your voices are equally shakey.

The rain begins to subside, the skies finally concluding their vicious rein. Your body shakes a little from the several rapid changes in temperature. Theo scans you head to toe, attempting to pinpoint a place to start working.

His hands work on unbuttoning your jacket and removing your shoes, everything completely drenched that could weigh you down. Once he’s finished, he cups your face in his hands, bringing his lips to your forehead for a gentle kiss.

With your eyelids halfway open, you pause for a second before displaying a grin and letting out a low, humming laugh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What in the world could you possibly be laughing at?” He looks down in your eyes with worry and a slight annoyance.

Your voice coughs and croaks, struggling to project from your throat. “Remember in third year when you caught your first snitch? And Draco was so jealous you had won them the championship that he stole it?”

Theo nods gently, his eyes widening in awe and his jaw dropping in surprise as you weakly reach your hand up to his face, revealing the rusted, waterlogged snitch in your palm.

“It was resting in between a couple rocks in the lake. He must have thrown it in there amidst his toddler-like fit of rage.” You explain, your smile unwavering.

“Bella, you continue to both kill and amaze me.” He takes the snitch in his hand, leaning down to kiss you.

When his lips caress yours, you feel him smiling against you. Your fingers find themselves at the base of his hair, wet from the rain.

When he pulls back, he lifts his head to meet Pomfrey’s gaze. His stressed words sound like an echo as your eyes begin to close again.

“Please, madame, she’s pale and freezing and,” he starts, just before being cut off by the healer. A soft hand cups his face as you hear her voice begin to speak. He needs soothing just as much as you do right now.

“Well come on then, dove. Let’s get your girl to the infirmary. Get her up, I reckon she trusts you the most.”

Without giving it a second thought, Theo pulls you tight against his chest, letting out a small grunt as he lifts you and himself off the ground.

“Whatever I can do, I want to do it.”

—

The next morning, you wake up to a foggy sunrise. The early light creeps in through the infirmary windows, casting a glow on Theo.

His body sits in a chair next to your bed, his head resting in your lap and a hand clutching yours.

It takes a second to put the pieces back together. But the sight of your wet clothes on the ground and the boy sleeping on your thighs helps kickstart your memory.

You brush your thumb against the back of his hand while attempting to awaken your limbs from their still slumber.

When he stirs awake, a wave of relief washes over his features. “Y/N,” he gasps, waking up fast and standing up to sit on your bed.

He pulls you in, holding your head to his chest and cradling you safely in his arms. He rocks you back and forth, savoring your warmth. You pull back and meet his gaze, his eyes frantically searching your face.

“Hey, hey,” you whisper, resting your forehead on his. “You told me to come back in one piece. I did.” You smile, nudging his nose with yours.

“Cara mia…” Theo groans, trying to hold back his smile. “Next summer, we’ll swim every single day at Malfoy Manor if that’s what it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

You pause, hesitant to agree to the notion. But deep down, you know it’s time to recover from this and move forward.

“I’ll learn fastest there anyways, assuming we’ll keep playing fetch with Draco whenever he gets mad and throws something of value into the pool.”

You joke, running your hands through Theo’s dried hair. His eyes have a hint of bloodshot to them after yesterday’s events.

“Whoever gets him to throw his ring in the pool first gets to push the other in the water?” He offers, extending his hand to you. You take it, shaking and kissing the back of it.

“You’re on, Nott.” You giggle, sending a glimmer of light to his eyes.

You didn’t notice it until now, the way he’s clinging onto your waist like you’ll somehow fall away again. You pull back, bringing him with you so his head rests on your chest.

You look down at your boy in his exhausted state. You kiss the top of his head as he dozes back off to sleep, nuzzling the side of his face against your collarbone.

“Never have I ever… risked my life for someone.” You whisper, entangling your fingers in the strands of his hair. You feel him huff against you, the breath from his laugh caressing your hospital gown.

Gently, you feel one of his fingers press down harder onto your hand as it clasps yours.

“You love to win this game.” He mutters back to you, kissing your chest softly as you feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin.

“Maybe, but I love someone else much more.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[baelarys]

Thérèse

Aemond targaryen x Reader Niece velaryon

word count : 1180

Warning : angust, Insest , Suicide, death of a minor,Mention of blood and cheese ,Delicate and explicit topics

Author's note : I born to be the mother of a girl.

Thérèse pt2

She was your everything, the reason for your joy, your greatest treasure. When Alysa was born, the happiness you felt was indescribable. He looked so much like you: her brown hair and dark eyes were a reflection of yours, and it filled you with an even deeper love.

Every day since her birth, you felt blessed. You watched each of her small gestures, her smile that lit up the room, and each babbling that made you laugh. Alysa had not only inherited your physical traits, but also your spirit, your energy, and your joy for life.

“Can you say mom?” you asked softly to the baby you held in your arms. “Mom,” you repeated in a warm, encouraging voice as you rocked Alysa back and forth.

Her big dark eyes looked at you curiously, her small mouth forming a soft smile. Each attempt of her to imitate you was another step in her development, and it filled you with indescribable pride.

“Come on, little girl, you can do it,” you whispered, bringing her face closer to yours so he could see you better. Alysa babbled something unintelligible, but to you, it was like music.

“Mommy,” you repeated once again, continuing to rock her. Alysa looked at you with those curious eyes, and even though she couldn't form the word yet, you knew she would soon.

The doors to your room suddenly opened, interrupting the moment of peace. You turned to see who it was, and found Aemond standing in the doorway. He looked visibly upset.

“My mother invited you to have lunch with her,” he said, approaching you with a firm step. "You did not go."

“I was taking care of Alysa,” you replied, without much interest, as you continued rocking the baby.

Aemond frowned, his gaze stern. “You know how important your presence at these events is to her. You can’t just ignore their invitations.”

“I'm not ignoring her,” you replied, staying calm. “My priority is Alysa. She needed my attention.”

Aemond took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. He approached you and looked at the little girl in your arms. His expression softened as he saw his daughter, his eyes filling with tenderness.

Without saying a word, he stretched out his arms to support Alysa. Carefully, you moved her from your arms to him. Aemond cradled her gently, his fingers gently stroking her brown hair. Alysa looked at him curiously, her small fingers trying to grab a strand of her father's hair.

“Look who's here, Alysa,” Aemond said in a warm voice he rarely used, reserved only for his daughter. "Is Dad."

The little girl giggled, her little face lighting up with joy. Aemond smiled, his eyes softening further as he looked at his daughter. It was a side of him that very few saw, a vulnerability that only Alysa could bring out.

––––––––

The last few days had been crazy. Aegon's proclamation as king had shaken the foundations of the Seven Kingdoms. The news of Lucerys' death and the looming possibility of war kept everyone in a constant state of anxiety.

In the midst of the political storm, you tried to remain calm, taking refuge in the tranquility and peace that Alysa provided you.

Every morning when you woke up, you heard the whispers of the servants and the worried murmurs that spread through the hallways. The atmosphere in the Red Keep was tense, with furtive glances and hushed conversations dominating the day. Aemond, for his part, found himself increasingly involved in court intrigues, forced to take an active role in his brother's new administration.

Despite everything, your priority was still Alysa. In their small world, politics and wars had no place. Her days were filled with laughter, games and discoveries, and you tried hard to keep that oasis of happiness intact.

You spent hours with her, reading old stories, singing lullabies, and observing each of her small accomplishments with wonder and pride.

One afternoon, while Aemond was away at a council meeting, you took Alysa to the castle gardens. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the scent of summer flowers. Sitting on the grass, you allowed Alysa to crawl around as she pleased, her giggles filling the space around you.

“You're growing up so fast, my princess,” you whispered to her, watching her reach for a butterfly flying nearby. “I wish I could keep you this happy forever, away from all the chaos that surrounds us.”

Just then, you felt a presence behind you. You turned and saw Aemond approaching, his expression a mix of tiredness and concern. Seeing you and Alysa, his face softened a little. He joined you on the grass, setting aside the concerns of the kingdom for a moment.

“I needed this,” Aemond said, taking Alysa into his arms and laughing softly when she tugged at his hair. “A moment of peace in the midst of so much disorder.”

“I know,” you nodded, touching his arm affectionately. “Here, in the gardens, everything seems so distant. We can forget for a moment what is happening out there.”

Aemond nodded, looking at his daughter lovingly. “I would like to be able to offer you a better future, one without wars and conflicts. But these are difficult times.”

“We will,” you said. “We will find a way to protect her and give her a happy life.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, enjoying the sun and the warm breeze. The garden became their refuge, a place where they could escape the worries of the outside world and simply be a family. Alysa laughed with every movement, her happiness was contagious and filled the air with pure and simple joy.

When night fell, you found yourself in Alysa's room, filled with toys scattered on the floor. The soft light of a couple of candles was the only thing that illuminated the gloom, creating dancing shadows on the walls. You watched Alysa sleep peacefully in her crib while you carefully folded some of her little dresses.

The silence was comforting, a pause in the tumult of the day. The candles flickered softly, casting a warm, welcoming light that made the room even more intimate. Alysa's every calm breath was a melody to your ears.

You hadn't sensed the presence of the two men who had entered the room until one of them collided with the small tower of blocks near the door. The sudden noise made you turn around quickly. At first, you thought it might be one of the wet nurses, but when you looked, you saw the faces of two men you didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" you asked, instinctively placing yourself in front of Alysa's crib. You tried to sound strong and authoritative, but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

The men exchanged a quick look. One of them, a tall man with a scar on his cheek. “Who is she?” He asked his companion.

“The one-eyed prince's wife,” one of the men murmured with a sneer on his face. You clung tighter to the crib behind you, feeling the urge to protect Alysa. Both men looked dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew they hadn't come just to catch rats.

“You can go,” you said firmly, noticing how the men approached you, murmuring something about Aemond under their breath. Fear hit you, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure. You decided to turn to take Alysa in your arms and escape, but at that same moment, you felt one of the men grab you by the hair, pulling you back, while a small cold knife was placed on your throat.

Terror washed over you, but you tried to stay calm. Alysa continued sleeping, oblivious to the danger. “Let me go,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your eyes locked with your captor's.

"Give us the child and we will not harm you," said the tallest, most robust man.

"No...no" you responded, trying to get away from the smaller man who was still holding you tightly.

You saw the robust man approach Alysa's crib and you felt as if your heart was going to explode "wait... I have jewelry, gold, I will give you anything, even double what they gave you for coming here" tears fell down your face. cheeks as he removed some gold rings from your fingers and extended them towards the men.

The tall man removed the thin veil that covered Alysa's crib, you suppressed a scream. Trying not to wake the baby who was still sleeping.

“guards…” you tried to scream but the man pressed the knife harder on your throat, you cried, you didn't know what else to do, you started to panic.

The tears began to fall faster when you saw how the man took your little Alysa by her arms and reached for her, causing small moans of pain from the baby.

"No!" You tried to get out of the man's grip on you but you couldn't, you felt the smaller man hit your head with the butt of the knife and threw you towards the wall which caused you to hit your head with it.

You heard Alysa crying, the sound of flesh being pierced accompanied by the sound of blood running on the floor, your stomach turned, you felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Alysa's crying stopped followed by the rough sound of a small body falling against the floor.

The man took the baby's head to put it in a small sack to leave the room followed by the smaller man.

You looked at the scene without knowing what to do until you saw the headless body of your daughter and a large pool of blood accompanying it, you crawled towards her.

“no…no…no” you repeated desperately, your throat hurt, your heart hurt and the tears came out without stopping, clouding your vision, you took the small body in your arms, bathing your fine dress in blood.

A heartbreaking scream came from your throat, your Alysa, your little and dear daughter, has been taken from you in such a cruel and inhuman way

The sound of the footsteps of some guards entering the room didn't even make you look away from the puddle that your baby's body was releasing.

“Y/N” Aemond called but you didn't turn around, you drowned in your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death you couldn't protect her, you were a shame. A small scream came from your throat, clinging more and more to the body you held in your arms.

–––––––––––

The night cold insinuated itself through the cracks of the window, cooling the already gloomy atmosphere of the room. A Week had passed since Alysa had left, leaving a palpable emptiness that expanded with each beat of your heart. The pain, far from diminishing with time, seemed to cling more tightly to your soul, as if the passing of the days did nothing but revive the memories of that fateful night.

In the oppressive silence of your room, the absence of words and human contact was a conscious choice. You had chosen withdrawal, seeking refuge in solitude to face the emotional whirlwind that enveloped you. Not even Aemond, your husband, had managed to penetrate the wall of your pain. Every time he tried to get closer, you retreated a little further, wrapped in a blanket of silence and memories.

One of the maids silently entered the room, carrying with her a tray of food that she knew beforehand you wouldn't touch. With a respectful but concerned gesture, she placed the tray on a small table next to the bed, discreetly removing the morning tray that was still intact.

"Dinner, your highness," she announced quietly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of your silent contemplation. Her eyes reflected a mixture of understanding and regret at your persistent refusal to feed yourself properly.

Nodding barely perceptibly, you acknowledged the delivery with a gesture while you watched her leave with soft and discreet steps watched him leave with soft and discreet steps. Dinner remained in front of you.

Your gaze fell on the small knife next to the butter, an almost insignificant detail in the composition of the tray. You watched it for a long moment, feeling ideas swirl and fade in your tumultuous mind. Among them all, a single idea persisted, firm as a beacon in the midst of the emotional storm that enveloped you.

With trembling but determined hands, you took the knife and headed to your bed, delicately passing the sharp object across your wrist watching as blood began to flow.

You were surprised not to feel anything, you laid down carefully feeling how the liquid wet the sheet beneath you while your eyelids became heavy you didn't fight to stay awake the only thing you wanted now was just to rest.

[lyvhie]

LYV LYV LYYYV LOOK what do you think about a loser haechan who has a popular bestf who is dating the girl of his dreams. he tries his hard to not blush or at least embarrass himself in front of her, but he can't help it and his bestf notices it. so when he invites his gf over, he leaves his door open in a sole purpose of haechan caughting them. and he does. and shamelessly watches, jerking off. his bestf and his gf tease him until he cums, practically sobbing, then he's invited to the partyy

that's what friends are for... | ldh

donghyuck x fem!reader - ft. boyfriend!mark (18+ mdni)

summary: if they even share a place, why wouldn't they do the same with a girlfriend?

a/n: uGH I SUCK AT DOING LOSER BEHAVIOOURURTRR BUT I TRIED IM SORRY LOLA 😓😓 (i changed a few details too, i hope you don't mind).

cw: smut, fingering, masturbation, handjob, exhibitionism (?), voyeurism (?), kinda threesome (???).

haechan was fine just watching you from afar. you were, in his conception, perfect. you're beautiful, funny, smart and so, so damn hot. he knew from the beginning that he had no chance and, when you started dating mark, his best friend, haechan's dream became even more distant.

it was the quintessential model couple of the year. everything appeared to be in order – the beautiful girl with her popular boyfriend, living out their own version of a fairy tale, just as it was often seen with those who fit the mold.

even though he was content with that. he found solace in the fact that he and mark were roommates. you were frequently around their shared space, and that alone satisfied him more than anything he could possibly hope for. the fact that you acknowledged his existence and even engaged in conversation, made him feel like he had won the lottery.

acting cool in your presence was a must! he was determined to emulate mark's demeanor, hoping that if he imitated his behavior, you might like him more. every opportunity he had, he would try to impress you – he'd show off his achievements in nintendo ds games, his latest skin collections in league of legends, or even try to explain complex physics problems just to catch your attention.

he wasn't entirely certain whether you were laughing with or at him, but he appreciated having your attention nonetheless. whenever he made a jest and you responded with a laugh, saying things like"yeah, really awesome, haechan," he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy at the fact that he was the one who made you smile.

oh, he loved it every time he heard his name rolling off your tongue. he wished he could hear you moaning it while he fucks your pretty pussy, but it's always mark's name that escaped your lips in those moments, the same name that he heard you moan countless times while he pretended to sleep in his room, listening to all the lewd sounds coming from mark's room.

god, how he wished it was him in that moment. he would be so good to you, even better than mark. but life is so unfair, and he has to be settle for fucking his own fist while thinking about you, imagining what it would be like to have you wrapped around him, or to have your thighs around his head while he eats you out and swallows all of your sweet juices and—

“baby, stop,” haechan was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, followed by your sweet giggle. he quickly turned his attention to you, dropping everything he was doing on the computer. he was surprised that you were there this late, he hadn't expected you to come over tonight.

haechan rose from his comfortable chair and slowly cracked open the door of his room to get a glimpse of the scene unfolding just outside. his heart skipping a few beats as he saw you pressed against the wall, with mark showering your neck with kisses.

"c'mon, babe,” he already knew what you were talking about. “you know he loves it," mark muttered against your skin, his kisses trailing up towards your lips.

mark was all too aware of haechan's feelings towards you, despite the boy's efforts to be subtle. he had observed the way haechan looked at you, how he often used a pillow to conceal the growing bulge in his pants every time you sauntered around in a mini-skirt, how he tried to linger around any room you were in, how he stutters or stumbles over his words whenever you speak to him, how he desperately seeks your attention and approval, often agreeing with whatever you say.

"don't worry about it," he nibbled on your lower lip, his voice dropping to a soft whisper, “i’m sure he will love to hear you screaming how much you love my—"

"mark!" you whispered loudly, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, drawing a chuckle from him. mark led you to his room and gently pushed you down onto the bed. despite your protests, you made no effort to stop his advances.

mark didn't pay any mind to closing the door, his focus entirely on you. he quickly climbed over you, ravishing your lips in a needy kiss. his hands roamed all over your body, slipping under your shorts and soon under your panties, his touch eager and urgent.

meanwhile, hyuck watched the scene unfolding before him, holding his breath in anticipation. he could feel his boxers becoming increasingly tight, constricting his growing arousal. he tried to look away, to distract himself from the sight of you and mark together. he knew he shouldn't be watching, but he just couldn't tear his gaze away.

mark spoke against your lips, sensing the pair of eyes fixed on you both. "he's watching us," he murmured. "again?" you questioned softly, stealing a quick glance towards haechan's room and noticing him lingering there, peeking through the crack in the door. mark smirked, pulling away to whisper in your ear, "i had an idea....”

haechan noticed a shift in the atmosphere and became concerned that he might be found out. he couldn't quite make out what mark was whispering in your ear, but he saw the faint smile on your lips and the glimmer in your eyes as you listened intently to mark's words.

haechan's worry evaporated into thin air as soon as you changed position on the bed, Instead, he just opened the door wider to get a better view. mark was now behind you, your back resting against his chest, and both of you were facing him. in a more logical state of mind, hyuck would have found it strange, but in the moment, he was beyond caring when he saw you sliding your shorts down.

it felt like his breath hitched in his throat as he caught a glimpse of your panties, and his eyes were glued to your every move. he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulled them off, revealing more of yourself to him.

when you finely pulled it off, he moaned softly at the sight of your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy dripping wet. he thought he was going to cum right there. he didn't even notice when he himself pulled down his own pants, freeing his aching cock that stood proudly and ready.

he slowly wrapped his hand around his shaft, the dry sensations of his mouth were suddenly replaced by the wetness of his tongue as it moistened his lips, swallowing hard as he saw mark's hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he kissed you.

“mmh, look at this,” mark mused with a small smile as his fingers found their way to your pussy, parting your folds and teasing your entrance, a gasp escaping your lips. “you’re so wet, babe,” he bit your shoulder softly.

haechan's knees felt like they were going to give out, but he managed to stand firm, his attention completely fixated on your beautiful cunt. he started to stroke his dick slowly, the precum facilitating movement.

“don’t close your legs, let him see how good you are to me, huh?” mark whispered in your ear, not giving you the chance to respond by sliding two fingers inside you, pumping slowly while watching your reaction, delighting in your moans and whimpers.

haechan did the same, watching as mark's fingers disappeared inside your hole, how eagerly you welcomed him. hyuck's grip on his dick was a little tighter as he quickened his pace at the same time mark quickened his, all his senses focused on the lewd sounds of your cunt and the priceless sight before his eyes.

donghyuck didn't even notice when he was the one moaning, and it wasn't a subtle sound, he was loud. he was imagining what it would be like to shove his cock in your tight pussy, imagining that it wasn't his own hand that he was fucking now, but you.

he focused into hearing your sweet moans, the way you tried to close your legs and mark held it place, fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your clit.

“fuck,” hyuck's jaw clenched, his cum beginning to pearl at the tip of his cock, ready to spurt out. he moaned your name shamelessly, his head thrown back, letting out a tortured groan, his hand faltering for a moment before regaining its rhythm, his fingers flying over his cock in a blur, "fuck...", he growled, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles trembling with restraint.

"that's it, babe," mark murmured in your ear, his kisses trailing down your neck. "i know you're close," he continued, his voice filled with desire. "i want you to call for him when you reach that point. can you do that for me?” mark nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, eagerly anticipating your response.

your words came out in a shaky and breathless whisper, "y-yes," was all you managed to utter in that moment. your toes involuntarily curled, and your fingers clutched tightly onto mark's thigh, pressing your back against him as you felt the mounting pressure building towards your climax.

you could also hear faint sounds of pleasure coming from the other room and see the way haechan touched himself, adding another layer of excitement to the moment. unable to hold back any longer, you succumbed to the pleasure and came all over mark's fingers, your moan of hyuck's name escaping your lips just as he had requested.

he wasn't expecting that at all. the way his name came from your lips right when you were cumming made donghyuck's control snap, his cum jetting out in thick, ropesy strands, coating his hand, a triumphant cry torn from his lips as he came hard, his body shuddering with release.

both of you and haechan were panting, riding out of your orgasms. mark whispered a few praises on your ear followed by sweet kisses before turning his attention for haechan.

he gave a mischievous chuckle, his voice slightly raised as he posed the question, "yo, did you enjoy the show?" hyuck's heart skipped a beat as the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes widening in shock. he quickly tried to compose himself, awkwardly yanking up his pants in a flustered panic, nearly tripping and falling to the floor.

"i-i-i’m sorry," he stuttered frantically, desperately avoiding eye contact as he looked down at his feet. however, he was taken completely by surprise when your unexpected question echoed through the room. "you wanna join us?" his head shot up in disbelief, his heart racing at the proposition and his cock backing to life again.

his throat went dry and his stomach flipped, the sudden request leaving him speechless. he couldn't believe what he just heard, but before he could even begin to form an answer, his body seemed to move on its own, and he found himself walking towards mark’s room in quick steps.

you and mark shared a knowing glance, both unable to suppress a laugh as you noticed the hasty decision he had made. there he stood awkwardly in front of you, his flushed cheeks and downturned gaze only adding to the charm of the situation.

mark let out a chuckle, his gaze fixed on hyuck as he caressed your thighs absently. "dude, chill," he joked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "it's not like this is the first time you've acted like a perv," you chimed in, finding his demeanor endearingly adorable.

before he could even protest, you reached out and took his hands, gently pulling him toward you on the bed. the mere touch of your skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, his nerves singing under the simple contact.

his heart pounded in his chest as you guided him onto the bed, his breath hitching as he found himself suddenly so close to you. hyuck's mind was racing, trying to comprehend what was happening and how he had ended up in this situation.

hyuck glanced hesitantly at mark, who was still seated behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be there, that he was intruding on something private. he nervously sought approval from his friend, expecting anger or disapproval, but instead, mark responded with an earnest nod of encouragement.

hyuck's gaze met yours, and he saw the desire burning in your eyes, leaving him feeling breathless. for a moment, he wanted to ask if this was really happening, but the words died on his lips as you cupped his face and brought him even closer. his breath came out in uneven gasps as you hovered your lips tantalizingly close to his.

he could feel your warm breath against his skin, a delicious torturous tease, and he leaned in instinctively, his own breaths shallow as he sought to close the tiny gap between you. the heat of the moment made his head feel light, and all he could focus on was the magnetic pull between you two.

you pull back slightly as he leans in, his anticipation palpable. "patience," you whisper, your voice sultry, drawing out the moment. your hands trail down his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. you let your finger linger on the edge of his shirt, a mere inch away from slipping under the fabric and caressing the skin beneath. "you've waited long enough, haven't you?”

you see the mix of frustration and desire in his eyes, the way he looks at you begging to be touched. but you're not done playing yet. you lean in and whisper in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "are you going to be patient and wait for me like a good boy?" your fingers lightly trace the outline of his collarbone, making him shiver.

“y-yes, i'll be good, i-i promise,” you can hear the desperation on his voice and feel the tension in his body, his muscles taut and coiled like a spring, ready to snap. your fingers trail down to the waistband of his pants, and you toy with the fabric, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back into place.

you hummed with satisfaction, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his ear. you could sense the way he craved your attention and knew how long he had been silently pining for you. deciding to give him a little taste of what he had been yearning for, you whispered sultrily, "i think you deserve a little reward,” you purred. “you want it?

he eagerly begged, his voice strained and desperate. "yes, yes, please, anything," he whined, his body practically writhing with need as he tried to press himself closer to you. it was as if he was a little puppy, anxiously seeking affection from its owner. "i-i'll do anything, just please touch me.”

you couldn't help but laugh warmly as you held his face in your hands, and he eagerly leaned into your touch like a well-behaved pet. you didn't want to make him wait any longer, so you quickly pulled him into a kiss, greedily delving your tongue into his mouth with a feverish intensity. he moaned in response, his body melting under your touch as his lips eagerly sought out yours, hungrily kissing you back.

he tasted sweet and addictive, and you felt yourself getting lost in the kiss, the way his mouth moved against yours, the little sighs and gasps that escaped him.

your hands slowly slid down from his face, exploring the contour of his neck before dropping lower and lower. they slid under the waistband of his pants, finding their target with a highly precision. you wrapped your hands around his hard cock, causing his gasp to mingle with a loud moan as the sudden sensation overloaded his senses.

the reality was so much better than any fantasy he had ever entertained. he had spent countless hours imagining what it would feel like to have your hands on him, but never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated the sheer thrill of your touch.

his hips stirred, a slow roll, a lazy, indulgent movement, his cock starting to swell under your ministrations. his hips began to move, subtle, rhythmic, urging your hand to follow the motion.

instead of the pleasure he sought, you gave him a tight squeeze, just enough to make him wince slightly. it was a clear warning for him to stop, and he immediately obeyed, his face contorting in discomfort before settling back into a neutral expression. his body tensed up as if preparing to resist, but he managed to hold back his usual impulsive reaction, instead listening to your wordless reprimand.

"i thought i told you to be patient, hyuck," you scolded gently, your grip on him growing firmer. he let out a cry of apology, his soft plea of "i'm sorry, i'm sorry" escaping his lips. the pained expression on his face was a clear display of his submission, his body quivering under the pressure of your touch.

mark's voice reached your ears, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "babe, i’m starting to feel a little jealous here," he teased, his hands slowly roaming under your shirt, their path heading towards your chest.

you couldn't help but break your focus on hyuck for a moment, loosening your grip on his dick. your attention turning to your boyfriend as you felt his hands roaming freely underneath your clothes.

“i'm sorry, he just so cute,” mark held the side of your face and turned your head towards him, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, silencing your giggle.

haechan watched from the sidelines, feeling a pang of longing as he saw the affectionate display between you two. he could feel his desire growing stronger, eager to feel your touch again and to kiss you once more, the way your hand remained still on his throbbing cock making all that feel even more torturous.

mark opened his eyes and threw a quick glance at haechan, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, as if noticing the boy's silent yearning.

mark spoke playfully against your lips, “i think he’s trying to steal your attention from me again," he teased. you couldn’t help but smile at his words, pulling away and glancing back at donghyuck, who was once again looking at you with those puppy eyes, obediently waiting for your attention.

you looked at hyuck and gave a gentle command, "take off your clothes, hyuck. i can't touch you properly like that, hm?" before you even finished your sentence, he was already shedding his clothes, his eagerness to feel your touch overriding any self-consciousness he might have felt at the moment.

mark seized the opportunity to slowly remove your remaining clothing, relishing the sight of your naked form on full display for him. it was almost comical how he was the only one still fully clothed, but he had plans to make you beg for him later.

hyuck almost came on the spot when he saw you completely naked, the sight much better than anything he had ever imagined.

you adjusted your position, sitting on mark's lap, your legs on each side of him. meanwhile, hyuck stayed beside you, your mouth almost salivating at the sight of his throbbing dick, begging for relief. mark's hands moved over your sides, slowly gliding up to your boobs.

his thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing, circling, his fingers closing around your breasts, squeezing gently, tenderly, his head dipping low, his hot breath washing over your skin, making goosebumps rise, before his lips closed around one nipple, sucking hard, pulling a tiny whimper from your lips.

before haechan could even feel a pang of jealousy, wanting to experience the same pleasure as mark, he was quickly distracted by your hand wrapping around him once more, gently stroking his length. the sudden attention made him forget whatever thought he had.

his lips curled into a snarl, a mix of pain and pleasure, as your fingers constricted around him, the strokes agonizingly slow, driving him to the edge, "...faster...", he ground out, his body straining against yours, his hips bucking up, involuntarily seeking relief, "...harder...", his hands grasped the sheets beside him, knuckles white, fingernails digging in. “please,” he pleaded.

deciding to comply with his request, you moved your hand faster. his head tossed back, the veins in his neck bulging, his breathing ragged, gasping, "y-yes, please," he managed to whine through the pleasure, his voice barely audible as the words left his lips in a pleading whimper.

he looked at you with tears in his eyes, the feeling of your touch overwhelming him, his moans of your name spilling from his lips like a desperate prayer. he looked wrecked, a mess of tears and whines, his eyes begging for more, unable to form any coherent words.

he wouldn't last long, he was already on edge. “cum for me, love,” your beathy words were like a cue, his cock pulsating in your hand, spilling streams of cum, warm and sticky. the cry came from his throat, primal, raw, unbridled, as he came apart at the seams, lost in the blissful chaos of ecstasy.

if that's how he acts with just a simple handjob, you can't even imagine how he will look when you actually fuck him.

his chest heaved, still catching his breath, his eyelids fluttering open, dazed, unfocused, his pupils dilated, darkening further as his gaze locked onto mark's sucking your tits, he wanted to make you feel good too, his mouth watering at the prospect, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“don't worry, hyuck,” you let out a soft moan, his name falling from your lips like a sweet praise, bringing his attention back to you. "we're just getting started, sweetie.”

[azsazz]

A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies. 

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness. 

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms. 

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his. 

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien. 

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.” 

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words. 

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.” 

He winces, “Sorry love.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 6.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, jungkook is a mess, swearing

☆word count: 4.4k

☆a/n: this can almost count as a full chapter lmao oop, I hope you enjoy reading <3

☆join the discord server here!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is excited. He hasn’t had his friends over in forever, and he and Jimin are already planning to get plastered even though Sera said they shouldn’t.

He’s been needing it, if only so that he can get you off his mind. So that he can forget how awkward things were this week, how you both avoided each other like the plague as if nothing truly ever happened between the two of you.

It’s been making him feel more bitter than he’d care to admit, so getting plastered has been sounding like heaven since Jimin suggested it. Or maybe Jungkook’s true goal is just to get Jimin drunk, if only so that he stops teasing him about you.

About that evening you watched anime with them, and Jungkook couldn’t resist but lean against you, far too close for comfort.

“Is she going to be there?” Jimin says for the thousandth time, wiggling his eyebrows.

They are currently setting up the living room, organizing all the alcohol they got. Sera is lounging on the couch, and she raises her head to look at them.

“Is who going to be there?” she asks.

“Tae’s sister,” Jimin explains, and then slides his gaze back to Jungkook. “They were pretty cosy-”

Jungkook interrupts Jimin’s teasing by punching him in the shoulder, clearly hard enough to hurt as Jimin immediately winces, massaging the spot he hit.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grumbles. “We’re just roommates.”

“Oh my God, they were roommates,” Sera imitates from the couch, just like the Vine from years ago.

“Exactly my point,” Jimin says, mischievous smirk on display.

“You know I’ll kill you?” Jungkook says, slightly shaking his head as he clenches his jaw.

Jimin laughs, plopping down on the couch next to Sera. “That’s if Tae doesn’t get to you first.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the comment this time around. It helps that his phone starts ringing with a call from Lisa incoming. He picks up to learn that she’s outside with Eunwoo and Jaehyun, and Jungkook walks over to the door, opening up for his friends.

Lisa smiles shyly as she meets his gaze, and Jungkook engulfs her in a quick hug before dapping up the two guys. As he follows his friends back to the living room once they’ve ridden themselves of their coats and boots, Jungkook glances towards the bend in the hallway, almost imagining you appearing.

But you’re not here at all. He heard you leave over an hour ago, while he was gaming in his room waiting for Jimin and Sera to show up with the alcohol.

He wonders where you went. If there’s a party on campus that you’re gracing with your presence right now, and somehow his stomach twists at the thought. He pushes it to the far back of his mind, focusing on drinking now that it is time to do so.

As he gets slowly tipsier with every passing sip, Jungkook can’t help but notice how Lisa is bolder than she usually is. Sitting closer, being touchier, and Jungkook would push her away if it wasn’t for the way Jimin is looking at them with narrowed eyes, suspicion painted on his features. 

Lisa could be a good distraction, Jungkook reckons. Not for himself - he wouldn’t have sex with her at all as she’s part of the friend group, and he’d hate to make things awkward. But she could be a good distraction for Jimin’s incessant teasing, so Jungkook seizes the opportunity, lying down with his head on her lap as the boys - Mingyu has now also arrived - are playing Smash on the TV. 

Jungkook feels the way Lisa stiffens for a few seconds, before relaxing as he offers her a quick smile. She melts then, and she starts playing with his hair, which feels way too good in his tipsy - or maybe drunk now? - state.

He sits up when it’s his turn to play, coincidentally grabbing a new beer for himself. He’s just barely won the game when the front door opens, a gush of cold air rushing in, and then you appear, cheeks rosy from the late winter outside.

The sounds fade around Jungkook as he meets your gaze, and his heart comes to a halt in his chest as a frown appears on your face. He hates the sight of it, and he’s too drunk to tell himself it’s not his job to take care of it, so he yells, “Peach!” at the top of his lungs.

He feels everyone turning towards him, and he quickly jumps up to his feet, wobbling slightly as he makes his way towards you.

“It’s freezing,” he says, closing the door. 

You meet his gaze, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”

He can’t help himself. He flicks your nose, if only so that your frown dissolves. “Astute.”

You glance towards the living room, but Jungkook doesn’t look away from you. You’re a prison to his gaze after all.

“You didn’t tell me you were hosting something,” you hiss through your teeth.

He leans against the door as you meet his gaze again. “Oh peach, sorry. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.”

Damn him and his drunk brain, because why the fuck would he say that? 

He hides it behind a grin, and then escapes by walking back to the living room, feeling your eyes boring into his back on the way.

Sera greets you, but Jungkook forces himself to listen to the conversation around him, laughing when everybody does. It’s a little forced, but it goes unnoticed, and the next time he glances towards the door, you have disappeared.

“I want to play with your hair again,” Lisa says in his ear, startling him. 

Sera gets up to head to the kitchen, and Jungkook glances at Lisa. “Huh?”

She pouts, her doe eyes innocent. “Like earlier?”

Right. He’s too drunk to refuse the offer, and he lies down, head in her lap, as she starts running gentle fingers through his hair once more. It doesn’t last too long - the second you emerge from the kitchen after Sera’s return, Jungkook pushes himself up, waving you over.

“Come here!” He narrows his gaze as his eyes drop to the bowl in your hands. “Wait, are those my noodles?”

You glance down. “Maybe.”

“Stop stealing my shit,” he complains, and he gives Lisa the controller he was holding before standing up to walk towards you.

He tries to grab the bowl, but you turn away, offering your back to him. “Nu-uh,” you say. “They’re mine now.”

Jungkook knows his eyebrows are almost touching over his eyes as he says, “No.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, which forces you far too close to his body for comfort. He feels the immediate reaction, his ears slowly turning red, and he covers it up by stealing the bowl from your hands. You try to reach for it, but you’re too small, and he whoops in victory.

“If you like my food so bad, just ask me to cook some for you,” he says, looking down to meet your gaze.

Your face is so close he believes he feels your breath on his skin, and his blood heats up, turning to magma in his veins.

“What are you doing?” you say through your teeth.

Fuck you’re so pretty. It’s all he can think of, and he smiles, winking at you. 

“Making sure you don’t eat the noodles I know I’ll need tomorrow morning for the hangover.”

You clench your jaw. “Just don’t drink too much.”

His eyes trail to the coffee table. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

“Please, Jungkook,” you say a few seconds after he’s met your gaze again.

Something’s wrong. He feels it in his bones, and he frowns, lowering the arm that was holding the noodles up. “What’s wrong?”

“I just had a shit date, and I’m still hungry. I just want to eat something.”

Hearing that you went on a date does something incredibly ugly to him, and Jungkook takes a step back, handing you the bowl so that he can fold his arms on his chest. “Who did you go on a date with?”

Your answer comes far too quick for it to be normal. “It’s none of your business.”

It dawns on him that he probably already knows, and the sour feeling turns bitter. “Please tell me it’s not the guy from last week.”

“Jungkook,” you firmly say. “It’s none of your business.”

The spike of anger and jealousy forces Jungkook to clench his fists. “He’s an asshole.” He lets out. “Why would you go out with him?”

You grit your teeth. “Because we have history. But I promise you that after the shit date we just had, I’ll never see him again. Happy?”

He isn’t, yet he still says, “Yeah.”

“Now can I go eat in my room while you guys do whatever it is that you’ve been doing?”

You glance towards the living room, and Jungkook looks just in time to see everyone turning their head away from you two. 

The last thing Jungkook wants is for you to go to your room. Hell, he’d go with you if only to make sure you’re okay, truly okay, yet he can’t really do that, can he? So instead, he suggests, “Why don’t you stay with us? To cheer you up?”

You meet his gaze, scanning his features for a few seconds. Jungkook hopes you can’t hear his heart beating out of his chest, settling only when you let out, “Okay.” You pause, sighing, and then add, “But you should chill on the alcohol, you reek of it.”

He narrows his gaze at you, though he has to admit he’s relieved by your teasing tone. It’s much more like the Y/n he knows, and it stays that way for a little while as you move to the living room, and he sits right next to you.

Almost close enough to touch, but not quite touching. He tells himself it’s just to keep a safe distance, to make sure Jimin doesn’t say anything, yet when you joke about the food being too spicy, and Jungkook says, “We just have to build up your tolerance”, his hand lands on your thigh, like your thigh was the metal, and his palm the magnet.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but when you widen your gaze, looking like a startled deer, his mind zeroes in on the spot where he’s touching you, and he immediately pulls his hand away, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

And then someone nudges him in the back, and he glances over his shoulder for half a second, just long enough to notice Jimin looking at him, and Jungkook knows he fucked up. He fucked up bad, so he moves away from you, forcing himself to lie back down with his head in Lisa’s lap.

It hurts you. He can tell that it does from the way you stiffen, barely even eating anymore, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else in the world than right here. But you have to understand - he’s doing this for your good. Both his and yours, to make sure Jimin doesn’t tell Taehyung anything.

It lasts for a little while, you staring at the TV while Lisa runs her hand through his hair, massaging his scalp soothingly - does she notice he’s tensed too? But then Jaehyun asks if you want to drink something, and all the anger and jealousy Jungkook felt earlier when you mentioned your date bursts out of him.

“Careful, Tae’ll kill you if you speak to her.”

He’s been drinking more. Way too much, if he’s honest, and the words come out slurred. He’s too far gone to care, and he ignores what Jaehyun answers to focus on the TV, on the beer next to him and on Lisa’s fingers in his hair. 

He wants her to stop. He wants all of them to go, to leave you two alone, but instead Lisa leans down to whisper in his ear.

“What happened between you and Tae’s sister?”

The question hits too deep. Nothing happened, he should answer. Yet everything did. Everything fucking happened and it shouldn’t have because now he wants you, always. Can’t fucking stop thinking about you, and it’s driving him crazy.

He doesn’t answer Lisa’s question. Instead, he sits up to take a long sip of his beer, and that is answer enough. Indeed, Lisa sighs dramatically next to him before grabbing her own drink. 

After that, Jungkook just drinks, which gets him far too drunk. He knows he should stop, but you’re still right there next to him, way too close for comfort yet way too far, and his mind is growing dizzy. 

It gets worse when you get up to walk to the kitchen after you’ve done shots, Lisa following behind you. Jungkook knows he has to follow, yet he’s drunk, and getting up is a struggle, but he eventually manages to push up to his feet.

He walks to the kitchen, stopping right outside as he catches sight of Lisa’s back, and you standing in front of her. 

“Peaaaach,” he yells, a lot louder than he first intended to. He plays it off by leaning against the door frame as you meet his gaze over Lisa’s shoulder. “What are you guys doing?”

Lisa turns. “Just talking.”

“Well then,” he lets out, cocking an eyebrow. “Why don’t you come just talk with everyone else?”

He wonders if he sounds as annoyed as he feels. He must, because Lisa frowns before glancing at you as you stifle a laugh. She sighs, shrugging, and then she’s walking towards Jungkook. He steps aside to let her leave, offering her a tight-lipped smile on the way.

Once she’s out and heading back towards the living room, Jungkook walks in, moving towards you.

“I’m…” he trails off, and he loses his balance for a few seconds, catching himself as he stops next to you. “I’m fucking drunk.”

“You want water?” you offer, and it warms Jungkook’s heart.

Because of course you would take care of him. Which, he reckons, is another reason why he shouldn’t stop drinking, because his heart shouldn’t warm in his chest when it comes to you.

“Water?” He shakes his head. “No, I want beer.”

“Jungkook,” you scold. “You don’t look like you should be drinking more.”

He snorts, and he steps closer to you, looking down at you where you’re standing in front of him, your pretty face tilted up to hold his gaze. You’re blocking the way to the fridge, and he clenches his jaw momentarily.

“Move.”

“Drink water first,” you insist, standing your ground.

You’re too pretty. Too addictive, and his hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him. You shriek, pushing on his chest, but he doesn’t let go.

“Let me get a beer,” he says, and he drops his head to whisper in your ear next. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

But you’re so close, the lingering smell of your perfume inebriating, and Jungkook doesn’t want to let go of you... Doesn’t think he’d regret kissing you, holding you, though he knows that might just be drunk thoughts.

Sober him would hate himself.

“Listen,” you whisper, and you fall silent as he ghosts his lips on the shell of your ear. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

He does it again, and you tilt your head to the side, allowing him better access, a clear sign that you want it just as much as he does.

Or so he likes to tell himself.

“It’s hard to pretend when you look so damn good,” he murmurs, his blood like electricity in his veins. “Always.”

“Jungkook…”

It’s the plea in your voice. It undoes him, reminds him of your brother, of every little reason why he shouldn’t be doing this right now. He steps away, horror itching in his heart.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Wow. You’re right. I need water.”

He stumbles to a cupboard, grabbing a glass that he then fills at the sink. He drinks it in one go, and then refills it, leaning against the counter to sip on it.

“What was that?” you ask as he meets your gaze.

He doesn’t know. He’s just insane - thoroughly, completely insane, and his body seems to think you’re the cure to the madness. 

He sighs, sucking on his piercings. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t do that.” You sound mad, and Jungkook’s heart squeezes in his chest. “Especially not when there are people around.”

He shrugs, tongue pushing against his cheek. “Sorry.”

Your features fall, eyes softening. “It’s okay,” you reassure, though he’s not sure you mean it. “You just caught me off-guard.”

He doesn’t like the sudden softness in your voice, the way it makes him want to cross the distance between you and kiss you dumb. So he does what he knows best, smirking lazily. “Liked it?”

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath that makes Jungkook think you’re probably about to curse him and his entire bloodline. Instead, your eyelids flutter open, and he doesn’t miss the spark of mischief hiding in your pupils.

“So what if I did?”

Yup. He’s insane. He’s mad, crazy, a fool. All the synonyms in the dictionary are not enough to describe the insanity crawling in his blood, in his heart.

“Pretend, peach,” he forces himself to say. “What would your brother say?”

“He’d probably say that he’d kill you, right?” you say.

Maybe he needed the reminder. Because Jungkook feels the insanity slip away, clearing his mind. 

“Oh,” he lets out, chuckling. “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I think I’m living on borrowed time now.”

You purse your lips. “So let’s pretend, right? Safer that way.”

He nods. “I really am sorry for that,” he says, meaning how he held you earlier. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, smiling softly. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

He pouts. “Ever?”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head. “Stop. Why are you such a shameless flirt?”

He wants to answer, wants to tease you more, but he doesn’t have time to as Jimin appears in the doorway, interrupting the moment. It pisses Jungkook off, and maybe that’s why he returns to drinking. Maybe that’s why the second everyone leaves, he wants you so bad he thinks he’s about to say fuck it.

Fuck what Taehyung would think.

“I told you,” you say to Jimin as he and his girlfriend get ready to leave. “Now I’ll sleep to the sounds of him throwing up.”

Jungkook hiccups, offense swirling through him. He raises a finger and says, “I’ll have you know.” He has to pause as everything spins around him, and he shuts his eyes. “I don’t throw up.”

“Yeah, yeah, Jungkook,” Sera answers, and Jungkook glares at her.

“Let’s just get you in bed before we leave,” Jimin says.

No. Jungkook doesn’t want to go to bed. He wants you, and he wants Lisa to fucking leave him alone. 

Why is he even thinking of her right now? You might be right - he thinks he’ll throw up before falling asleep.

“And tell Lisa to stop looking at me like that.”

The words are out before he can stop them, and Sera widens her gaze. “What?”

Jungkook frowns as he looks at you. Because you’re the answer to the question, but he can’t say that, right?

“I don’t know.”

“You’re fucked up,” Jimin teases before bursting out laughing.

As he laughs, Jimin pushes Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook was already unsteady, and he loses his balance, falling against the wall. He lets out a surprised, “Oh shit!”, and a second later, he collapses, soon followed by Jimin.

They’re laughing, the kind of laughter only alcohol can bring forth, so loud Jungkook can barely hear as you and Sera talk. The only thing he hears is you saying that Taehyung can hardly count as a good influence, which is the most accurate thing he’s ever heard you say.

“He’s not,” Jungkook agrees, thinking about how Taehyung forbade him to be with you. “Your brother is an asshole.” He pauses, and then bursts out laughing again. You don’t say anything, so Jungkook adds, “Can you help me?”

He does grabby hands motions at you, and you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “You can crawl to your room yourself, JK.”

He frowns, sitting up to lean against the wall as Jimin does so too. Sera helps Jimin up, while Jungkook just keeps staring at you.

“I’ll crawl to your room if you don't help.”

You smirk. “Alright, let’s see you try.”

Fuck. He glances towards your door, and then looks at you again. “Too far.”

You look victorious, your smirk stretching into a smile. “Then sleep on the floor.”

“Are you for real?”

You groan, rolling your eyes, but you step closer to him. Jungkook tilts his head back so that he can keep looking at you as you say, “We should have asked your friends…” You glance towards Jimin. “Your sober friends to help bring you to your room before they left.”

Jungkook lets you grab his hands. “Peach, I much prefer if it’s you tucking me in.”

You help him stand, and though it’s a struggle, Jungkook is soon up. He wobbles on his feet, and you hold onto his arm like you don’t want him to fall again.

“I won’t tuck you in.”

All Jungkook can think of is that you’re so, so beautiful next to him with that flush on your cheeks. He wants to touch you, to hold you, and he doesn’t have any inhibitions left. A second later, he cups your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes widen, surprise making them sparkle, and fuck, he thinks he’s about to kiss you dumb, to kiss you until he’s never said you should pretend nothing happened.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

Jungkook blinks once, slowly, his surroundings coming back into focus. He turns his head towards Jimin and Sera. “Shit, you’re still here?”

He’s stupid. Inherently stupid, and he can’t focus on Jimin and Sera as they leave. No, the second you step away from him and his hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Jungkook thinks he becomes deaf. Or maybe he’s just deafened by the thunderous beats of his heart. He only comes back to reality when you step in his line of vision, Sera and Jimin now gone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook flinches as he meets your gaze. “What?”

“Now Jimin’s going to be unto us!” You motion towards the door before folding your arms on your chest. “I know you’re drunk, but you’ve got to fucking control yourself.”

“Hey, fucking chill out, will you?” Jungkook bursts, only because he’s done.

He’s done being yelled at, done always being the one in the wrong because he can’t do a single fucking thing right in his life.

You cross the distance between you and him as he leans against the wall, smirking at the sight of your anger. Because that anger is something he knows, something he can deal with. You stop right in front of him, finger pointed towards his face.

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill.”

“Or what?” he says as he tilts his head to the side.

“Or I don’t know, Jungkook.” You shut your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Don’t you care that Taehyung might be onto us because of Jimin?”

He huffs a breath, and you open your eyes. He plays with his piercings, his tongue then pushing on the inside of his cheek. “He won’t be. Why would he?” He blinks. “Because we’re hanging out? Nah, we did that even before he left.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Not like that.”

“Like what?”

You sigh again, your annoyance so stark he thinks he can taste it on his tongue and, damn him, it’s turning him on.

“Like we’re friends,” you say. “You touching me. All that shit.”

“I thought you liked when I’m touching you,” he says.

You stare at him unblinkingly. “Shut up.”

He raises his hands in defense, smirking. “Sorry. It’s hard to help myself when you’re looking at me like that, peach.”

“Like what?” you ask, echoing his previous words.

“Like you want me,” he murmurs, and he gives in to his desire, one finger tapping gently on your clenched fist, before slowly moving up your arm. “Like you’re mad I suggested pretending that nothing happened.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, swatting his hand away. “I agree with the statement. He’s your friend, he’s my brother. We shouldn’t have fucked at all.”

It hurts. Jungkook doesn’t know why, but it does, and he feels himself growing bitter.

Feels himself needing to hurt you, too.

“See? I knew you saw the wisdom of it,” he says, and immediately hates himself for saying it as hurt flashes in your gaze. 

It disappears quickly, and you roll your eyes, gently patting his chest.

“Then stop. Fucking. Touching. Me,” you say, tapping on his chest with every word uttered, your hand then resting flat against his beating heart.

Everything in him concentrates on that spot where you’re touching him, on the feeling of your fingers on him, of your eyes in his, and Jungkook feels himself leaning infinitesimally closer. 

“You’re the one touching me right now, peach.”

He doesn’t let you move your hand away when you try to, putting his hand over yours.

“Let me go,” you breathe out.

He can’t. He really can’t let you go.

He doesn’t want to let you go.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers.

You step away, freeing your hand from underneath his. “Don’t ever tell me that again.”

He knows it’s going to happen. The look in your eyes tells him that you know it, too, despite the words said. 

“Why?”

“Just don’t.” You scoff. “You can’t kiss me, I can’t kiss you, we-”

Jungkook grabs your face, crashing his lips on yours before you’ve finished the sentence. Because he can kiss you. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he can, and he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. Not when you reciprocate the kiss in all its intensity, pushing him back against the wall.

He hits hard, breathing out the air in his lungs. You’re quick to push your tongue in his mouth, and Jungkook wants to feel you, to taste every inch of you…

But you’re stepping away, and he can’t look at you. Not when you’re everything he’s wanted…

Everything he can’t have.

“Don’t kiss me again.” You say it like you mean it, and then you walk away. He hears your steps, and he only looks up when he hears the door of your bedroom closing behind you, putting finality into the words.

What the fuck has he done?

Read chapter 6 here!

☆☆☆☆☆

our favourite chaotic mess in all his glory lmaooo i hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think of the drabble<3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate

[azrakaban]

I love the Smiths - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: It's short. I know. I'm just in shock. #4 in jkrowling?! HELLO? TYSM I LOVE YOU AAAALL

Summary: Mattheo finds a non depressing person who listens to the same depressing music as him

Music suggestions: Back to the old house (2011 remaster) - The Smiths, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - The Smith

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (not Mattheo or reader), cursing, fluff

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT DO DRUGS. I never have and never intend to, all descriptions of the effects of weed are brought to you from compulsory PSHE lessons (That's all I'm basing it off of so may be inaccurate) :) 

Pronouns mentioned: The reader has she/her pronouns, but feel free to change it in ur mind, it's not plot relevant xxx

...

Mattheo's POV

Sometimes all you need at the end of the bad day is rain and a smiths vinyl.

And fortunately for a certain younger Riddle son, that's exactly what he had. Well, that and a pack of cigarettes. 

He lit one as he sat back against the cracking stone bricks of the tower walls, just as A There Is Light That Never Goes Out came on. He exhaled the smoke, feeling partially guilty about the health effects he'd been so dubiously warned about by the posters plastered across the school walls. 

It's not like professor sprout didn't mean well by growing medicinal cannabis for some students, it's just that some slightly more raucous Ravenclaws and Gryffindors saw it as a personal invitation to get high. 

Not Mattheo though - he didn't like the stuff, knew it fucked with your head in the worst way possible, so he steered clear of it. He stuck to depressing 80s music to keep him happy. Ironic really. 

He looked up at the stars, trying to spot patterns before drifting off into his mind. 

'Because it's not my home, it's their home

and I'm welcome no more...'

"I love the smiths." Came a voice from the doorway, and Mattheo spun sharply. "What?" He said quietly. 

"I said I love the smiths." Came the voice again, and this time it registered with him that it belonged to a gorgeous girl standing in the doorway.

He grinned, returning the nervous smile on your face. "Yeah?? Well, you've got good taste then." He said, taking a puff of his cig. You flicked it from his hand with a small smile. He looked up at you, confused. 

"Why-?" He said, raising an eyebrow. 

"I heard you complaining about it in transfiguration earlier. At least, I think it was you. Sounded like your voice. It was a deep voice, whining something like 'Theo I wanna quit but you keep putting them on my bedside so I caaaaaan't.'" You imitated him perfectly, and Mattheo laughed. 

"Yeah, sounds about right." He said, smirking to himself. 

You laughed with him. "I imagined you looking at him the way a toddler looks at you before asking if you have games on your phone." You admit, smiling as you sit beside him. 

Mattheo stifled a laugh. "Really? I think I was more looking at him like how a kid looks at their parent before they ask them to watch them do something really bad, like a backflip that turns into an A&E trip." He replied, trying to light another cigarette. You flicked that one off the tower. 

He nodded, mouthing a quick thanks. You laughed. "I'll take those." You stole the cigarettes from his pocket, leaning across Mattheo. Instinctually, he sniffed, smelling your shampoo. You pulled back, looking confused.

"Did you just sniff my hair?" You said, half laughing. He flushed. "It was right there! What was I gonna do? Smelt good though." He acknowledged. "Some kind of spice?" He guessed. 

"Cinnamon." You replied, smiling. He ah'ed in acknowledgement, before he looked up at the stars. You mirrored him. 

"Look. Taurus." You pointed up at a cluster of stars. Mattheo looked up, not seeing anything. "Is it really?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. You giggled. "No idea, but it could be. Why, did it make me seem smart?" You replied, looking over at him.

"Will you push me off of here if I say no?" He laughed. You gently pushed him. "Debating it. If I push you I can steal your vinyl and player." You smirked. 

"Ah, but without me, you'd have no-one to listen to them with." He gently shoved you back. 

You nodded, agreeing with him. "True that."

He smiled, and you sat in silence for a while, before he broke it. "So, what brings you up here at midnight?" He queried, looking at you with a strange expression. 

"Friends. They're driving me insane." You replied, laughing a little. He nodded with you. "Same here." He sighed. 

You looked at him. "What did yours do?" He laughed. 

"Nothing much... they have good intentions it's just..." He grimaced.  "They're trying to set me up with this girl I've never met. She sounds great it's just... I want to know someone before I ask them out, you know? God that sounds corny." He groaned, and your mouth quirked, eyes seeing the stars but not registering them.

"No, I agree. Blind dates are awkward." You shuddered. "Have much experience?" He teased. You shook your head, smiling. "I'm going off of several cheesy rom coms." You shrugged.

"A romance girl hmm?" He smirked. You shoved him. "Loud and proud, tease me all you want, at least my standards aren't the bare minimum." He looked surprised. "It's not a bad thing you know. In my cheesy romance movies, the romance book girls tend to be the best love interests." He shoved you back gently as you gasped. 

"You watch romance movies?" You said quietly. "Don't give me that look, Blaise's mum loved them and I spent summers with them. You learn to tolerate them." He chuckled. You smiled.

"Do you have a favourite?" He gave you a look. "Don't be ridiculous."

You gave him puppy eyes and he relented. "10 Things I hate About you." You smiled happily. "Good choice." 

And then something hit you. "Did you call me a love interest?" He looked confused. "What?" 

"You said the romance book girls are the best love interests are the romance book girls directly after i said it. Do you see me as a love interest, Mr Riddle?" You teased, and he flushed again. 

"You know who I am?" He said quietly. You nodded. "Then why for Salazar's sake are you still here?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"You didn't ask me to leave, so why would I go?" You looked confused. He shook his head. "If you know who I am you've probably heard the rumours about what I'm like. That I'm like... him." You got the implication. 

"Well, you haven't tried to kill me, and you've had plenty of opportunities to push me off the tower, so I'd say you're pretty good in my books." You smiled. He gave you a weak one, clearly still processing. 

"So, do you see me as a love interest?" You repeated, smiling as he blushed slightly again.

"Maybe I do." He murmured. You smiled. "You're cute when you blush." You kissed his cheek before you stood. "Where are you going?" He said, looking crestfallen.

"I prefer to get to know people before I cast them as my love interest." You replied, smiling. 

"See you in transfiguration." And with that, you made your dramatic exit. 

He smiled to himself as you left, and sat there for a few moments in contemplation. What in the fever dream?

...

Mattheo was just leaving charms as he saw a head of (y/h/c) hair leave the history of magic classroom. He looked closer, spotting your gorgeous eyes that he'd been lost in the previous night. And then, in horrifying mortification, he realised he didn't know your name. 

"HEY! SMITHS GIRL!" He yelled, pushing past people to catch up with you, you span around, smiling. 

"Hi." He said a little breathlessly, and you giggled. "We umm, only listened to Side A of my vinyl last night, you wanna do Side B tonight?" He asked, crossing his fingers in his robes. You nodded, smiling, as his friends caught up. 

"I'd love to. But i don't want to keep you from your friends. Hey Theo." You waved to the guy standing behind Mattheo. Mattheo froze as Theo smirked. "Hi n/n. Mattheo, this is the girl I was telling you about. Y/n, Mattheo, Mattheo, Y/n. Though it seems you two are already aquainted?" He raised an eyebrow. 

You flushed. "A little." You murmured. Mattheo nodded sheepishly. "See you tonight, Smiths Girl." He smirked. 

"I have a name!" You called as he left with his friends. "SEE YOU TONIGHT Y/N!" He yelled back, laughing. Theo smirked at him. 

"Don't."

...

Over the next few weeks, you two grew incredibly close. Yapping about people, buried trauma... everything and anything that came up under the moonlight. 

"I love the moon." You said after a particularly deep talk, which had Mattheo nearly on the verge of the tears for the first time in he couldn't remember how long. He turned to you, giving you a sad smile.

"Why's that?" He murmured, watching your features illuminated by the light. 

"It's known you your whole life, through every bad fringe, through every cringy Twilight era, and still loves you. It still doesn't go away, except during the day, which is when the sun watches you. You don't need it then. But as soon as you do, it's there. It only goes when it has to, not because it wants to." You said thoughtfully. Mattheo chuckled slightly.

"Sure you're not over personifying it there?" He whispered, gently nudging you. You shook your head. 

"Look at that and tell me you don't think it can feel." Mattheo looked. And this time he saw. 

He saw what you saw in the moon. He saw what it represented in you. And he decided in that moment, he would stay. He would be your moon, if you would be his sun. But how could he tell you that? He couldn't, god no. 

So he just let his hand inch closer to yours, getting close, so unbearably close and then moving away, like magnets. 

"Y/n?" He murmured. You turned to look at him. "Yeah?" You whispered. 

He swallowed the words he wanted to say, instead opting for something that wouldn't probably make you turn and run away from him. 

"Thank you for telling me about you. And thank you for hearing about me." He said, giving you a small smile. 

"Don't thank me for something I'd willingly do whenever." You replied, watching the stars, and Mattheo wasn't sure if something inside him healed or broke. 

"You'll be the death of me." He chuckled lowly. You smiled. 

"I'd rather be the life of you." You replied, giggling before standing and going to leave. He reacted on instinct, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. 

"Stay? Please." He murmured, pulling you back down. You let him pull you, and found yourself sat between his legs, back against his chest, watching the stars. 

Another song came on, and you smiled. "I love this one!" You said, and stood again. For a moment, Mattheo panicked, before you held out a hand for him. 

"Dance with me?" You whispered, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Well, to Mattheo, your eyes sparkled all the time, but more under the starlight. 

He stood, smiling as he took your hand and fake bowed, wiggling his eyebrows as he gently rested his hands on your hips, pulling you a little closer. 

You smiled, dancing  in silence for a while before he spoke. "It's a little cold." He said, and you nodded, shivering a little. "Mhm." You said. Damn, you should have brought a jumper. He noticed you shivering. "Come here, y/n." He murmured, outstretching his arms for you. 

You hesitated, and he worried that he'd pushed you too far, before you conceded, moving into his arms. He rested his chin on your head, happy to be a source of warmth if it kept you happy. You snuggled into him and Mattheo physically felt his heart ache, like it wanted out of his chest and into yours. 

"Honestly, fuck you." He said, groaning. You looked up, seeming surprised. "What?" 

"You come up here, where I was fine alone, and share all these things, and  that make me share things that I haven't told anyone before, and what's fucking more, you don't make me feel bad about it, you help me, and suddenly I'm not fine alone, and I need you."

"And I don't like needing people, it just gets you hurt, but you're not like other people, and I'm okay with needing you, because everytime I see you, you heal some tiny part of me, and fuck you because I am so hopelessly, desperately, in love with you." He said, walking back and forth infront of you as you tried to process. 

"I'm sorry." You whispered, smiling. He groaned. "And now you're apologising for it, and you look so fucking pretty and all I can think about it how much I want to kiss you." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, damp from the rain, and a raindrop fell down his face like a tear. 

"You should. Kiss me I mean. I'd like that." You whispered, and you were barely through with your sentence before his lips were on yours, and you were kissing him, and his one of his hands was cupping your face and another one held your waist.

Mattheo kissed like a man starved, but oh god was it amazing. He kissed you, because you were his oxygen, his everything. 

When he finally broke apart from you, he grinned, then laughed softly, and so did you. 

"Merlin, I love The Smiths." He exhaled, still laughing quietly. You giggled. "Me too. But they share my heart with this one guy, can't think who." 

He laughed at that too. "Can't imagine who you'd be talking about." 

You smiled. "Yeah, it's this stranger I met on the astronomy tower, who likes the same music as me, and is super nice when you get to know him, and who i think loves me too. Oh, and he's also really cute." You added as an afterthought. 

"He's definitely in love with you, given he's usually a little shit to everyone else, including his best friends. OH SHIT. Theo. He's going to be so smug. We CANNOT tell him. I'm begging you." Mattheo fell to his knees, pleading with you in  mocking way. 

"Tell him what?" You smiled innocently, and Mattheo rolled his eyes. 

"That I am yours, Y/N, if you want me, and you are mine if you want that." He replied. 

You nodded. "I want that."

Mattheo kissed you at that, and before you left the astronomy tower, and before he said goodnight to you.

...

The next day, Mattheo saw you outside his charms class, and you shot him a smile. He gave up at that, walking over and giving you a short kiss, smiling into it when you kissed back before the two of you pulled apart. 

"What happened to staying secret?" You murmured, giggling at the surprised expressions of your friends and the surrounding students. He shrugged. "I love my smiths girl." There was a cough behind you, and you turned to see Theo smirking. 

"HA." Theo coughed loudly, his smirk growing more cocky by the second. 

"DON'T." Mattheo glared. 

"Okay, I won't, jeez." Theo put his hands up in mock surrender. 

Mattheo relaxed. 

"Just call me cupid." 

"SON OF A-"

A/N: WOAH. Azra uploaded twice within a month, is she okay? NO GUYS. I have a new crush. YIPPEE. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this crack fic and didn't cringe too much reading it. xxxx

REQUESTS STILL OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS <333

K THX BYEEEE

[astralnymphh]

𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑! ★

content: prodigy!abby x nerdy!reader, childhood friends, university-based, fluff (for now), romance + tension (little bit angsty), drabble length but switching up the small caps (experimenting. heh), mainly jotting an idea, not a certified abby expert.

It was an absolute murder to discover that she could not fufill this one off her bucket list.

Fucking video gaming?

Exactamundo! Abby can outstand everybody in nearly anything, being everything from a virtuoso violinist, to a glorified part-time fisherman, and a damn gourmet chef as well. She paraded around the entire campus pursuing a name in every elective and Olympic hobby you could ever think of. Name it, chances are she's done it. Actually, more than done it, all things considered.

But video games? Guess the esteemed Abby Anderson had finally tumbled downhill and suffered defeat; looking you up out of all computer-smart people felt treasonous to her, but seemed high-priority to the eye of the beholder, the eyes in question even rolling. You don't need an in-person class course on fucking Skyrim. Look at the tutorials!

“So, how the hell do I shorten my speedrun times?”

None of it made a lick of sense. Well, the wanting to do speedruns part, you see the appeal in a medieval-inspired game. Speedrunning sucks the fun and the atmosphere out of a truly gorgeous game such as the forenamed. Yet, it's not like you haven't experimented in closed-world speedruns after immersing yourself in collecting all the achievements; Firewatch takes the cake.

But, still, coming to you—a forgotten, childhood friend whom she ghosted—makes no logical sense. Games are easy-peasy. Literal pieces of cake!

You scrunch your nose at the reclined blondie on your bed, confused. “Um, by watching a tutorial?” Almost laying back into a condescending tone, maybe even a little. “Did you even think to do that before knocking in the dead of night?” Her mordant, stick-up-the-ass kind does the same thing to you, so, you can gripe at that game all you desire.

“Hey,” she pouts, sounding out mock-offense. She scoots up from her prone position on the bed to face you—so proper. “Everything has more to it than what you see.” Sure, philosopher. “And there definitely is with video games. I keep losing. Besides, if I can't stomach skydiving or rock-climbing, then this is next on my list.”

“Pft—”

“What? You know I don't do heights.”

Oh, my god. “'You keep losing?'” Is she a prodigy at radical honesty?

Pond-blue eyes toss in a perfect, resentful circle. She scoffs, “Why do you think I came over here?” Complaining right hand flicking with attitude.

“I don't teach beginners.”

Your sarcasm flies not even an inch under her radar; it was always a retreat tactic back in highschool—when this imitative facade first hardened. “Oh, okay.” She bites you back with it too. But it never even occured to her that you might just be serving a tablespoon of teasery. Being old friends, having lonesome yearns, even stubborn prodigies can be painted in a rosy picture.

Still can see those young, faded freckles. Lovely ones.

“This was a mistake, wasn't it?” An unpleasant question. Drops from her lips almost wantonly.

It strains your chest cavity.

Is seeing her a mistake?

Not really. You hope not really. Once, there was a time where she was suddenly rude, dismissive and up every aspiring valedictorian's ass, but all paths lead back, you believe. Somewhere underneath that porcelain facade—and hot, rocking bod—is a clean crack in her over-achiever matrix; softness is bleeding out. You can see the beginning brooks of it like a kingly ichor. Possible smiles that aren't contemptuous.

What next, an apology?

“Can I at least.. say sorry, before going?”

Sorry—going? Fuck, you majorly zoned out. “What?” You loom in closer, throwing the one-brow raise. The proximity barely even occurs to you.

“For being a jerk, for blowing you off, ..” The list implies endlessness as her voice fades out. In a way, you expect her to pick up and continue. But, after the gestures and head-tilts, she pauses. Reinstates eye contact, pauses, and works her lips again. An awkward, prefacing breath skims. “And I guess, 'm also sorry for.. this?”

Before comprehension hits, it is too late. Darkly, a warmth brushes your cheek and a silence catches your lips, blocking your eyes out. It makes you feel blindsided, this short-lived kiss, one you suspend wide eyes for, tilt your neck for, accept without question. A strange deja vu rushes to your nape.

You shiver.

It even ends before you understand it, Abby pulling away with light-glossed eyes you swear are stones of aquamarine in disguise. She cracks; dints a smile in her cheek. Proud, anticipating. Having her this close made your inhales excessive; you needed all the air in the world to function right now. Deep breathing.

She smells like the outdoors.

Naturally.

“Good?” She has to reassure herself.

“Yeah,” you quickly spout, croak even. Wherever in the world your head is, it's not here. “Not really a prodigy at kissing, so..” And while it is somewhere, the remnants of her kiss are phantom. They have not stopped yet.

An amused chuckle greets in gusts across your lips, from your radical honesty, the moment itself, whatever. Crowns you the jokester anyways. “Guess we both have something to learn then.”

Wonder what future that comment entails.

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

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