#i'm sorry for the abrupt ending

[walpu]

Hi, it’s me again!! >_<

When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj

Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3

See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.

But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.

Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.

Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.

And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?

Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33

I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot

I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1

bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta

It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.

And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????

Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.

The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.

He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.

And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"

Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally

He'll take what he can get okay.

But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.

It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.

He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.

You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!

Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.

Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.

Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.

You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.

You can't keep lying to him, can you?

Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?

You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.

It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.

All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.

I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.

You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.

He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.

"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".

You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.

What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.

At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.

Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?

As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.

This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.

He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.

He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.

He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.

Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.

He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.

And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"

You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.

When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.

He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".

He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.

Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.

[littleoddwriter]

Can I request Billy Lenz (1974) x reader fic (established relationship) where, since reader is probably a sorority girl, she asks Billy if he wants to move into her house with her (there’s an attic ofc) since she’ll be forced to move out beacuse she’s in her last year?

Not Without You | Billy Lenz x Female!Reader

Hey there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like what I've done with it! And thank you for waiting patiently for it. I may be slow in fulfilling the requests, but at least they're coming eventually... <3 notes; Female!Reader (can be read as Gender Neutral tho, it's mostly because of the setting being a sorority dorm house, but there are no words or indicators that wouldn't allow for anyone else to read this without problems!); Short Fic; Established Relationship; Kissing with Tongue; Brief Mentions of Murders.

“You know I’m about to graduate, right?” you asked Billy, while you were sitting cross-legged on the attic floor, facing your boyfriend. He was huddled in the corner and the moonlight shone through the window, illuminating him enough for you to make out his shape and half of his face. You could see that your words upset him.

He nodded jerkily, making a soft sound of distress.

“Yeah, so… I was wondering if you’d wanna move into my house with me, then?” you continued, “It also has an attic if you’re more comfortable that way. I don’t expect you to sleep in the same bed with me or anything like that if you don’t want to. But… I’d love to at least continue living in the same building with you…” 

There was a certain sense of caution to your inquiry. Not because you were afraid of him. Never. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. But you were worried that maybe you had read too much into your relationship and his current distress. Maybe he was only with you because you lived in the sorority dorm house, after all; and perhaps he was only upset about you leaving because you steadily provided him with basic needs and more, forcing him to find somebody else. It scared you that by bringing up that you were moving out in a few months, the reality of your relationship’s nature would come crashing down on you. 

Billy suddenly leaned forward and grabbed your hand tightly. That action startled you for a moment, but you instantly relaxed when you looked at his hand grasping onto yours like it was his lifeline. And when your eyes travelled up to his face, you smiled softly. Your anxious thoughts disappeared as soon as you saw how grateful and in awe he looked.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him quietly with a teasing edge to your voice.

He nodded almost frantically in answer. “Yes,” he said shakily, “I wouldn’t have let you leave. Not without me. Not without Billy. Never without Billy!” 

Now it was time for you to startle Billy as you leaned in and pulled him into a tight, loving embrace. He froze for a split second before melting into your arms and returning the hug with force, almost crushing your ribs between his arms. You couldn’t really breathe anymore, but he loosened his grip soon enough for you to not even be forced into saying something. 

As his arms loosened around you, you leaned back a little to look at his face. For a moment, you simply looked at him, admiring his features in the soft moonlight along with the contrast of the harsh shadows due to the otherwise dark attic. To you, he was almost an ethereal being. 

With a soft smile, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Billy’s lips. 

He reciprocated it with a fiery passion that you only knew him to be capable of, and you loved it more than you could put into words. His tongue slipped out and licked your lips as you two kissed, making it a lot messier than it needed to be; but you were used to it by now, and you were never one to complain about being wanted so fiercely.

Eventually, you leaned back, parting from him enough to speak. 

“I’m looking forward to living with you and not having to sneak around just so you won’t be caught,” you whispered against his spit-slick lips with a quiet little giggle in your voice before kissing him again, eliciting a soft grunt from Billy, who grinned in response.

[alectoperdita]

What if for the prompt kaijou with 45 or 40? Dealers choice. Maybe for 40 kaiba dresses up as kaibaman for mokuba or xyz reason & he’s really nice to jou through the anonymity of his costume? 🤔

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

Read the previous prompt fill for 45 here

40. Identity reveal/major secret revealed

---

One day, Seto would wring Pegasus's lily white neck. Not today, but someday. And soon.

Tribute, his ass. There was no reason for Pegasus to make such a card other than to make him a laughingstock. He even named it after Kaiba.

Kaibaman.

What a ridiculous "monster" design. From the helmet to the flowing brown locks to the mockery of his trademark coat. Kaiba didn't even wear that coat anymore. He constantly reinvented his look to keep his image from going stale. Yet that was still the one most people remembered and would remember, thanks to Pegasus memorializing it in card form.

Mokuba loved it, though. And as much as Kaiba loved his little brother, he sometimes despaired over his lack of taste. Being fourteen only excused him up to a certain point.

It was also because of his love for his brother that he suffered his current indignity—traipsing around his amusement park dressed as one of his least favorite monsters, Kuriboh included.

For KaibaLand's third anniversary, the company had organized a slew of events in the week leading up to the event, including special shows, limited edition merchandise sold only on park grounds, and a mini tournament. All in the name of drumming up attendance. And it worked like a charm.

Tickets sold out weeks in advance. Day after day, they hit the attendance limit. Security caught their fair share of stragglers trying to sneak in through the side entrances. Products flew off the gift store shelves. They could barely keep them stocked day-to-day.

But it was difficult to bask in the resounding success in his current state. Between the helmet and the meter-long wig, Kaiba perspired as he'd never before in his life. The costume's state-of-the-art fabric could only wick so much sweat. In addition to impeding his peripheral vision, the helmet roasted him. But if he removed it for even a nanosecond, he'd be besieged.

That was because of another of Mokuba's bright ideas—a scavenger hunt. He insisted that guests who weren't Duelists (and Kaiba scarcely believed such people could exist) should have a chance to win prizes, too. Thus, the boy had put together an elaborate list of two hundred items, each worth various amounts of points. At the top, with the possibility of netting the player with almost fifty points, was a photo with Kaiba taken on the day of the anniversary.

But Mokuba was as devious as he was clever. Simply because Kaiba had to be out and about for the game to be fair, it didn't mean Mokuba had to make it easy for them.

Hence, the costume. Literally having him hide in plain sight.

Countless guests had approached him for pictures thus far, but he doubted a single one of them would submit it as part of the scavenger hunt. To them, he was one of the park's many character actors.

It was the perfect disguise for surveying the park in relative peace. Kaibaman the Duel Monsters drew less attention from the crowds than Kaiba Seto. So he could go wherever he pleased without being mobbed.

But he was reaching his limit. He needed to find somewhere secluded and shaded to cool off before heat exhaustion claimed him. That wouldn't be easy, given how crowded it was.

He found one eventually. An oasis of calm among the hustle and bustle. Or it could've been if there weren't already people there—a couple plainly in the middle of a quarrel. That alone should've sent Kaiba speedwalking in the opposite direction.

Except he knew the couple.

Well, he knew one of them. Jounouchi Katsuya remained a bit of a thorn in his side to this day. The boyfriend, though? Kaiba wouldn't have known if he wasn't dating Jounouchi. At least Jounouchi regularly made it to the podium in Duel Monsters tournaments. What's-his-name barely broke the top ten in rankings.

Kaiba hated to say it, but Jounouchi could do better than that loser.

"C'mon, babe, you're blowing this out of proportion," What's-His-Name wheedled as he clung to Jounouchi's elbow.

"Leggo. Don't you 'babe' me. I know what I saw," snarled Jounouchi with clenched fists.

Kaiba wondered if Jounouchi might hit the other man.

What's-His-Name didn't know when to cut his losses, though. "She was hitting on me! I swear!"

"You had your hand in her back pocket."

The loser broke into a cold sweat. Perhaps he didn't expect Jounouchi to be so blunt about the matter, especially in public. Just goes to show how little he understood Jounouchi, then. He switched tactics, instead. "You can't blame me. I mean, you saw how smoking hot she was. Tell me you wouldn't cop a feel if she offered. You swing both ways too."

Without warning, Jounouchi lurched forward, putting him intimately face-to-face with the man. Their roles reversed in a flash; What's-His-Name tried to jerk back, but Jounouchi had captured his wrists.

Jounouchi's gaze was equally steely as he spoke. "No, because being bi doesn't mean being a lying cheat. That's all on you."

To say What's-His-Name was shaken was an understatement. He looked ready to shit himself.

"I'm sorry. It'll never happen again. Gimme another chance, Katsuya—"

Something inside Kaiba recoiled upon hearing Jounouchi's given name. Was he that serious with the loser?

Jounouchi dropped his wrists. "No. We're done. Lose my number."

What's-His-Name really had no self-respect. Or brains. He reached for Jounouchi again despite everything about Jounouchi's body language screamed "DO NOT TOUCH." Kaiba could see it already. The inevitable right hook, the blood, and the screeching, then the many headaches that ensued after a public altercation.

He cleared his throat, and the two other men froze. Slowly, their heads turned, and they both gawked at Kaiba. At his costume.

Fighting the embarrassment brewing under his collar, he pitched his voice lower when he said, "That's enough. He's made his position clear."

Suddenly, Kaiba was immensely grateful for his helmet. It would hide a multitude of sins.

What's-His-Name's gaze flitted back and forth between Jounouchi and Kaiba. Perhaps he had been willing to grovel like a worm, just not in the presence of a third party.

"I'll call you later," he muttered before fleeing the scene.

"Don't bother. I'm blocking ya," Jounouchi called after him. Then, straightening to his full height, which was still shorter than Kaiba, he jutted out his chin and said, "Thanks, but I had that handled."

"I know," Kaiba replied. "It wasn't for your sake. I was saving the idiot from the broken nose he was talking himself into."

He hadn't intervened out of the goodness of his heart. No, the only media circus worse than the one where Jounouchi went public dating another man would be a knock-down, drag-out breakup fight of the same relationship on KaibaLand property. That was something Kaiba wanted to avert at all costs.

Jounouchi blinked. Once. Twice. He threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist while his entire body heaved from it. It was Kaiba's turn to stare. Maybe the breakup hit Jounouchi harder than expected. He was laughing like a loon, with tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Should Kaiba say something?

Should he leave him alone?

To his relief, both the laughter and the tears soon subsided. Jounouchi slumped and perched himself on a low garden wall. While wiping the moisture from his eyes, he patted the empty spot next to him. For a long awkward second, Kaiba debated the wisdom of taking such an invitation. In the end, the shade convinced him and he took a seat, back ramrod straight, beside Jounouchi.

Jounouchi kicked his legs forward, scuffing the sole of his sneakers against the concrete. "Betcha wondering why I was with that bozo."

Kaiba nodded before he could stop himself.

"I mean, it wasn't all bad. We had a lotta fun in the beginning. We saw each other almost every day. Went out together all the time."

Kaiba was aware. For weeks without end, new photos of Jounouchi and his beau surfaced daily in the tabloids and gossip sites.

Jounouchi continued, "Sometimes it felt like he was showing me off. Which was probably the first warning sign now that I think about it. We were out in public all the time, but we barely spent any time where it was just the two of us except for— Never mind, you don't need to know that part."

Heat gathered under Kaiba's tall collar. He silently thanked Jounouchi for his rare discretion.

"But at the time? I gotta admit. It was nice. It felt good to be wanted like that."

Jounouchi finally looked his way. The helmet's limited field of vision ensured he couldn't see much of anything other than Jounouchi's resigned expression. Not unless he turned his head away. That seemed rude even to Kaiba's limited social graces.

Kaiba cleared his throat. "It doesn't give him the right to treat you like that, especially after you came out for him."

"What? Nah! Please! That was the press blowing shit out of proportion. I've been telling 'em I ain't straight forever. They just didn't believe me until they saw me with a man with their own damn eyes. Dunno if they thought it was a publicity stunt or something, but it's not like I was hiding it." Jounouchi rolled his eyes, then shook his head. "It's so hard to find guys to date."

Kaiba caught himself before he nodded.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, this sucks. Breaking up sucks. But I ain't heartbroken about it. I just wish it hadn't turned out like this. I know it sounds insane, but shit like this makes me feel like I'll never be good enough." Jounouchi slumped forward to assume a rather defeated posture. His bangs fell over his eyes, obscuring them. He didn't move for several moments, leading Kaiba to wonder if he was crying for real despite his insistence he wasn't heartbroken. A deep sigh heaved out of the man. "Anyway, sorry for dumping all that on you, man—"

Kaiba cut him off. "You'll find someone better."

Jounouchi shot up. He gawked at Kaiba with wide eyes. "Ya think?"

"He was beneath you. His best tournament ranking was thirteen." Disdain seeped into Kaiba's tone. "And that's when he breaks the top twenty."

Jounouchi's shoulders shook as he bit his bottom lip. It took him a beat to recompose himself. "God, of course, that's the part you're most outraged about."

Was Kaiba supposed to be offended? Jounouchi made it sound like he was the ridiculous one here. He left it alone, though. Jounouchi was laughing again. It was a vast improvement over the gloom that previously wreathed him.

"Well, I actually feel tons better now." Jounouchi flashed a lopsided grin. The idiot always looked better with a smile, no matter how vapid. "So thanks for that, Kaiba."

He stiffened. Not Kaibaman. Just Kaiba. "Excuse me?"

Jounouchi tipped the helmet back to unveil Kaiba's stunned face. "Your Christian Bale Batman impression could use some work."

Heat engulfed Kaiba from head to toe. The glaring afternoon sun may not be to blame. He groped for something to say. Anything. But Jounouchi caught him red-handed. What could he possibly say to justify himself?

Jounouchi let go. The helmet slipped back into place, obscuring the top half of Kaiba's face once more. Through the lenses, Kaiba watched him intently as the man stood and stretched, extending both arms to the sky.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone"—Jounouchi glanced back and winked—"it's you in the costume."

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | ao3

shattered on the cliff’s edge, trapped by the tides

— a steddie ghost story —

part 2 / 7

Soaked through by the icy water and the howling winds, and weighted down by shock and fright, Steve’s legs may as well have been made of lead as he, slowly, with a racing heart, accepts his fate and enters the lighthouse. 

He flinches, hard, when the door falls shut behind him, as if pushed by an invisible force, and he flinches again when a wave crashes violently. It’s almost as if the lighthouse is shaking with the impact, but maybe that’s just him. 

“Okay,” he breathes, whispering because he doesn’t dare to speak any louder, lest the unending darkness might be disturbed — and something tells him that it wouldn’t take all that kindly to that. “Okay.” Once more, with feeling. 

Before he can move and find an oil lamp or even just a candle to bring some light into this place, something thumps from somewhere up the stairs he cannot see. 

He knows that, just like ancient manors, lighthouses have a life of their own, knows they’re prone to moving and moaning along with the tides, with the wind and the water — but that was not the settling of wood or metal. That was something else.

“Hello?” he calls with a trembling voice, closing his eyes at the echoes of his own voice travelling up and down the tower he is being made to call home for the foreseeable future. “Is— Is anyone there? I’m… Well, I’m Steve.” 

Images fill the space behind his eyes, horrible visions of the old keepers luring him here to murder him, out of sea madness or cannibalistic urges, or just to have a bit of entertainment out here, just for a while. Other images, then, of ghosts coming to haunt him, to drive him to the brink of madness, to the railing all the way up on the tower, and watch his descent into— 

Another thump. The sound of a door opening, the wood groaning, the hinges creaking, everything insists the lighthouse protesting its new inhabitant. 

And then, through the pitch black darkness, a whisper. Travelling down towards him, growing louder as it comes closer and closer and— 

Steve takes a step back, his breath coming in shallow rapidity as he reaches for the handle and finding it unmoving.

Run, the whisper says, sounding more like an inhale than anything else — and is the air getting thinner? Run. 

Another wave crashes into the lighthouse. 

Run. 

The whispering voice is in his head now, loud for all of its tonelessness. 

Run!

Steve stumbles backwards, his body too frozen with cold and fear to catch his fall. His body collides with the wall and he slides down, covering his ears with his hands to keep out the noise, to keep out the world as he tries in vain for the fear to subside. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, hiding behind his knees like a little boy, scared of his father’s raised hands and his brothers' gloating. “I’m sorry, I mean no harm, I’m just— I’m here to fix the light. I’m here to make sure it’s— everything’s, everything’s fine. I don’t mean to disturb, I’m sorry. I’m Steve. I’m sorry.” 

Everything stills then — or maybe it’s the cotton in his ears and the staccato of his heart that drown out everything else and remind him that he’s painfully, desperately alive. And mortal. 

But the whispering stops, and so does the groaning up ahead, and silence falls. An unnatural silence, not even broken by the ocean waves outside. 

It’s like the lighthouse has stilled to listen to him. 

It’s something Robin told him once (or rather, debated at him while he was letting her rant wash over him in a whiff of fondness for his best friend in the whole wide world): 

“Ghosts don’t know your intentions, right? So it’s only fair to communicate with them. It’s you breaking into their house, after all. Well, unless they’re haunting your house, but even then it’s fair to assume they have been there all along and you either deserve the haunting and had it coming, or you’re just the poor lad caught in the crossfires. Either way, worth a try, right? If even those still alive assume the worst, I would think an eternity spent in the aether is unlikely to be beneficial to your judgement of character.”

Steve had waved it off then — or, in his case, smile patiently and waited for her to answer his initial question from half an hour ago before she went on a tangent on aether and ghosts and the supernatural; she’d been spending too much time in the library. 

“You learn a thing or two about haunted houses, growing up in a family such as mine,” he’d said, and then, “Dinner?” 

A pang splits him down the middle, regret and uncertainty tearing at him concerning Robin’s wheareabouts and her safety. She must be safe. She must be! 

“They say you don’t like— you, uh, strangers. The locals said you don’t like when people come here, so I’m sorry, but… I’m sorry. I have to fix the light. I’m Steve.” 

It’s madness, it must be. Early onset, although his father would have a thing or two to say about that, would claim it had always lived in him, would claim the way he looks at men is proof of that and reason enough to have him hanging in the streets. 

It wasn’t madness back then, Steve knows, vehemently, desperately knows. But this? Talking to a lighthouse, speaking into the darkness like it’s sentient even just a minute after he first set foot into it? It must be. He’s never been superstitious, has never been prone to ghost stories or supernatural appearances like Robin. 

But something about this place, something about the way it has been haunting his dreams, something about Old John capsizing is enough to make even the calmest man lose his wits. 

Something tells Steve that talking with the darkness is the right thing to do, if only for his own comfort. 

He looks up, his head thumping against the brick wall behind him, as steps approach. They still, right in front of him, and he’s staring into nothingness, almost expecting to make out a shape. Expecting for the next breath to be his last. 

Expecting… something. 

But nothing happens, and the sound of the ocean returns. The darkness seems less impenetrable as a sliver of light falls in through a side light up above. 

“Thank you,” he says, as stupidly as it is soundless, his voice buried beneath fear and dread. 

Miraculously, the darkness seems to fade a little more. 

Enough, eventually, for Steve to get up and dust off his trousers in an attempt to look presentable, or to shake off the residue of his fright — if only it was merely residue. 

Now that the darkness has lightened, he keeps his eyes fixed to the spot where he feels like he can make out a shape in the dust. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him, though, maybe it’s just the expectation of finding a spectre that makes one appear. 

Madness, he reiterates. But something about it doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t feel mad. And the steps never receded. If they were not an illusion, something created to steal the grounds from beneath his feet, playing with his senses to warp his perception of reality and the truth, then something — someone, quite possibly — is still standing right in front of him. 

He looks on even long past the point of impolite staring, searching the dust for a shape that only appears in his periphery when he moves his eyes. 

It feels rather undeniable, though, that someone is watching him. 

“Hello,” he says at last, having regained some of his voice and footing. His hands clench by his sides, though, his body revolting against speaking with an apparent ghost. 

The darkness doesn’t answer, and neither does the dust. But with the memory of urgent whispers still on the forefront of his mind, Steve is almost grateful for it as he carefully reaches for his bags and stars to move so slowly that it might almost be a mockery of the situation if his legs weren’t so shaky. 

The weight of an invisible gaze rests on his shoulders and settles in the bones of his neck. It takes everything in him not to rub at it — he has no idea what the darkness would take offence to, and he already feels incredibly lucky to have made it this far with his life still intact and only his sanity and his pride having taken a crack along the way. 

He thinks of Old John again, thinks of Good luck, kid. He almost asks the darkness about him, but he bites his tongue just in time. The stairs are steep and if he fell, given an invisible push, chances are he wouldn’t remain as alive as he is right now. 

So he swallows and feels his way along the wall up the stairs. When he finds an oil lamp, he reaches for the matches in his bags — blessedly dry — and lights it.

It’s almost blinding, the shine of the flame that sets to illuminate the way, but Steve feels his gaze drawn to the foot of the stairs where the spectre is still framed by the door. Still appearing to look at Steve. 

Stalemate is one thing to call it, maybe, this tension in the air, the weight of their gazes accompanied by the stumbling of Steve’s heart and the trembling of his hands. 

Steve swallows and continues with his ascent of the winding stairs, never once losing the feeling in his neck. He finds more lamps along the wall and lights them until they lead him to a set of chambers that in any other lighthouse would have been down at the bottom or even in another building altogether, leaving room in a large house or a tiny hut for the keepers to reside in. But none of that is possible out here, in the middle of the sea, towering on top of cliffs that already make it nary impossible to get here. 

The lighthouse is prone to flooding if the wind shifts or the ocean remains ruthless in a storm, so everything needs to be located above the threat of sea level. 

He finds two bedchambers, the beds unmade, a richly stocked pantry that will last him several months if he keeps it locked away from wet air, and an almost inviting kitchen. A burnt smell wafts from the oven, grown stale over time but a certain bite has never quite managed to air out, and when he takes a look, he finds what was supposed to be bread still in there. A coat hangs on a rack, another is hung over the back of the chair, and another stool has been thrown over. 

It looks for all intents and purposes like someone was just here. Like someone is still here. 

What happened to the old keepers? — That does not concern you. 

A shiver runs through him and he tries not to succumb to the terror that seems to lurk inside these walls as he starts a fire in the hearth. He is exhausted, adrenaline rushing from his body and leaving behind only apathetic tiredness and a longing for rest. He doesn’t even remember the light, his head filled with fog and exhaustion.

Once the fire is going and he is sure there is enough coal for it to last all night and keep him from freezing to an early death, Steve falls into bed without dinner. He only has enough strength not to retreat into a dead man’s unmade bed, instead finding new bedding and linen to make it his own. 

He doesn’t sleep on that first night, but he falls into a haze thick enough to be unable to move as the whispers return, knocking and hammering along the walls almost rhythmically, as if waiting for a signal. 

There is no time, they say, though he cannot be sure the next morning if he dreamed that or if he really heard it echoing along the walls. 

Run. Leave. There is no time. 

Tick. 

Tick. 

Tick.

And the night remains dark.

tagging: @klausinamarink @steviesummer @auroraplume @dragonmama76

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 31: Betrayal

Continuation of Day 29

Read it on Ao3

- First & the Chain

- Summary: The heroes are forced to fight First

CW for temporary character deaths (two to be exact), blood and injury, and possession

-----------------------

Sky awakens to the sound of someone crying out.

He shoots upward, eyes wide, searching in the darkness for the disturbance. It is difficult to make out anything for a few long moments. His vision is blurred with the remnants of the deep slumber he had been drifting in, mind fuzzy with the pulsing panic of adrenaline. But then he turns toward where Time had lain down hours ago, a short ways from the others, and his heart stutters.

The hero is no longer sleeping peacefully on his bed mat. It lies in a crumpled mess of strewn blankets. And not far from it, Time has fallen flat on his back, arms spread out on either side of him. When Sky leans forward, he can make out what looks like a dagger embedded in the palm of each hand. The hero struggles against them, breath ragged with pain, eye bright. 

He casts Sky a look that screams to run, to get far away. But Sky isn’t about to. Especially once his gaze drags upward to take in this new attacker.

A familiar figure looms just above Time, tall and lean and gripping a gleaming sword in his hand. His blonde hair is illuminated by the crimson glow of the fire, turning it the golden color of a rupee. His blue eyes are as dark as the night sky, glinting with a look Sky has never seen within them before. His prized red cape drapes over his shoulder to flow out behind him, softly lifted by the breeze. 

Sky gasps. 

“First?”

He croaks the name, almost unable to bring himself to speak it.

Those eyes flit to him, lips curving in a grin that looks nothing like the smiles Sky usually sees on his friend’s face. 

(His brother’s face. His predecessor’s face.)

“Surprised, Knight of Skyloft?”

Sky pushes off his blankets, rising slowly. He feels as though he is moving through mud, trying and failing to comprehend what is happening. 

First had shown up several months ago, stumbling into their camp severely wounded, weak, and confused. He was a hero, he had explained while Hyrule and Warriors had bandaged and healed his many injuries. The first of them all. After dying in a brutal war in his own time the Shadow had dragged him back to the land of the living.

“He meant to use me,” First had said, eyes flashing with bitter hatred. “He attempted to invade my mind to make me his pawn. That way, through me he could do all of you in.”

But Hylia had protected him, strengthened his mind and body long enough for him to escape, and make it here — to where his spirit had led his failing feet.

Since then, First had remained with them, healing and getting to know them. The heroes had come to trust him and he them. And Sky, Sky had been the closest to him of them all. 

At last, he had someone with which to share the burden of being one of the first. At last, he had a mentor of his own, someone he shared a connection with like Legend and Hyrule or Twilight and Wild and Time. 

And when he had broken down one night beneath the weight of the curse, First had comforted him, holding him close as he sobbed years worth of pain into his worn cape.

So, reconciling that man with a kind heart and a brave soul, reconciling someone he had come to admire with this…this monster is incredibly difficult.

“What are you doing?” He chokes, fists clenching at his sides. 

First grins. In the dim glow of a crescent moon Sky can just make out a dark trail of blood trickling from his lips down to his chin. 

“I am erasing you all from history. Just as he wanted me to.”

Sky’s hands itch for a weapon and he hates himself for it. 

“The Shadow?”

“No.”

First lifts his sword. Time drags in a gasp, still struggling vainly, weakly against the bloodied knives pinning him and First’s foot pressing against his chest. Eyes wide, Sky snatches the Master Sword up from her place beside his bed mat and lunges.

He is too late.

First utters one word, one name Sky never thought he would have to hear again. 

“Demise.”

And he plunges his sword into Time’s chest. 

The hero gives a choked cry, blood bubbling from his lips. And abruptly, goes still. 

Everyone is awake now, rubbing sleep from their eyes, asking questions in the slurred voices of those still half-asleep. 

But Sky can’t reply to any of them. He stands there, sword in hand, mouth open in disbelief, tears beginning to well in his eyes. And Time gazes back. His stare is empty. His chest doesn’t rise or fall.

When First yanks his weapon out of him with a sickening sound, the hero doesn’t even twitch. 

Sky blinks rapidly, fury and pain tearing his insides apart.

“Time!”

Wind’s heartbroken cry rends the air. Running footsteps sound and suddenly the heroes are all rushing forward, falling to their knees beside their fallen leader. 

“He’s not gone,” the sailor chokes, even as Warriors’ trembling fingers find Time’s wrist, shoulders hunching with a brokenness Sky has never witnessed in the knight before. Even as Twilight looks up at First, face deathly pale and rage in his eyes.  

“He can’t be.”

“He’s gone, sailor.” Warriors puts his arms around Wind, holding him close as he cries. “Sprite’s gone.”

“What’re we gonna tell Malon?” It’s Legend now, defeat practically emanating from him. Though he is trying to restrain himself, his eyes are red-rimmed and brimming over with tears.

A laugh rings out over the clearing, splitting through the thick haze of grief and anger and paralyzing disbelief. Though it emanates from First, it sounds nothing at all like him.

“Cry over him,” he growls. “Weep and wail like wandering wraiths. It won’t bring him back to you.”

“You did this.” Wild’s voice trembles with the weight of his anger. He rises, hands clenched into fists “Why? We trusted you, protected you, healed you. You’re our brother! A fellow hero! And-and yet…you kill him just like that?!”

First chuckles. Blood travels down his cheek in a grim line, strangely reminiscent of a tear trail.

“I killed him because it is what Demise wishes for me to do. Please, do not misunderstand. I have no desires of my own. Only his.”

Legend’s eyes narrow. “So what? You want us to believe this isn’t your fault? That – I don’t know – you’re still dead? Nothing more than a corpse for him to use?”

Twilight makes a choked noise. “He’s not dead. This…this Demise is inside of him. Inside his mind.” 

He raises his eyes to First again and another emotion has joined the anger in their stormy gray depths. Sky can’t identify it. He can hardly bring his thoughts into submission as it is. Can hardly comprehend anything past the fury and sorrow breaking his heart into a million pieces. 

“Isn’t he?” The rancher asks. “He’s possessed you? Made you his puppet?”

First’s eyes glint in the darkness. “Ah, you have seen it before, haven’t you, Hero of Twilight? It was Zelda, wasn’t it? Your precious princess. Have you told your friends how you had to plunge your sword into her?”

Sky’s eyes widen as a sudden realization hits him.

First is stalling, they all know it, waiting for the best moment to take them all out. But if he is telling the truth about Demise possessing him there might be a way to protect his brothers from a terrible fate. He looks down at the Master Sword, heart in his throat. 

There might be a way to set First free.

“We don’t care what rancher did or didn’t do,” Wild snaps. “We care about what we just saw you do.” He draws a dagger from his belt and jabs it in First’s direction. His hand trembles. “You killed Time. You took him from us. I won’t let you touch anyone else.”

“Neither will I.”

Sky rushes forward just as First raises his sword, ready to strike Wild down. His weapon collides with First’s, sending searing pain through Sky’s palm.

Sorry, Fi. But I have to do this. 

The hero’s eyes blow wide in surprise, then narrow. He laughs, darkly.

“Ah, you’re a quick one. I should have expected as much.” He parries Sky’s next blow, movements smooth and swift. “However, you cannot raise that against me. I am a hero remember? The pain will overcome you before you manage to land even a strike on my skin.”

Sky grits his teeth, lunging again, every swipe deadly and vicious. The hilt burns into his flesh and the acrid scent of it burning reaches his nose. He does his best to ignore it. 

The others drag themselves up now, grabbing weapons and tools, and wiping away tears. They rush forward, determination in their movements, anger in their eyes. 

There will be time for grief later. Now is the time to fight. For their lives. For the life Time lost. 

First is every bit as fast and skilled as Sky had thought he was. But even he cannot hold out forever, especially not against multiple opponents. Opponents as experienced as him and one hundred times more driven.

He just has to bide his time, Sky thinks as First just barely dodges a skyward strike and nearly ends up skewered on Twilight’s sword. And endure the pain as best he can. An opening will present itself. Sooner rather than later, more than likely. It doesn’t take an experienced eye to tell that the hero is losing his advantage and fast.

And when finally, he stumbles, trying to evade a well-timed attack by Wind, and loses his balance Sky is ready for him.

Agony splitting through his hand, vision bleeding white, he brings the sword down. It goes against everything within him. His very soul cries out against it. But he solidifies the sight of Time lying limp and lifeless in his mind, and forces his arms to move.

With deadly accuracy, the Master Sword pierces First’s shoulder through.

First screams, a wretched sound that echoes in Sky’s ears and bounces around in his skull. Back arching, body trembling, his eyes go an unsettling pupil-less black. And in the next moment a cloud of smothering, soul-crushing darkness flees his body.

Sky leaps back just in time to evade its reach. It soars upward to dissipate into the sky. 

The hero goes still. Everything is quiet, save for the sounds of the heroes sheathing their weapons. Slowly, Sky steps forward. Grasping the hilt, he drags the Master Sword out of his brother, feeling horribly ill. 

I’m so sorry.

No sooner is the blade free, than First awakens with a gasp. Blue eyes flit about, searching for answers where there are none. Calloused hands grapple for purchase as he shoves himself upward. No one dares stop him, though Sky can’t help rushing to his side when he lets out a low groan. 

“What…” First glances at him, then at the other heroes, who gaze down upon him with broken expressions. “What happened?” 

His gaze lands on Time’s body, still lying there spread out like a fallen star, basking in a pool of blood and he chokes, face going white.

“What did I do?”

It’s a whisper, broken beyond belief. Sky closes his eyes. Reaching out, he lays a hand on the knight’s shoulder. He is trembling, violently, breath coming in haggard gasps.

“It wasn’t you,” Sky says with all the strength he can conjure. It isn’t much, but he believes it nonetheless. This is his brother, sitting before him, his true brother. And that cursed god had used him like a lifeless pawn.

“Demise possessed you,” Twilight pipes up. His voice is hoarse and there are tears in his eyes. But there is conviction in them too, now. None of them can deny what has happened. None of them can stand to pin the guilt on someone whose own hands had betrayed his very spirit.

Sky knows for a fact many of them have seen things like this before. And while he himself hasn’t, he has witnessed Demise’s cruelty and power. What horrors First must have endured at his hand to break him so completely… He doesn’t even want to imagine it.

“I killed him.” First’s voice is dull now, almost eerily emotionless. “Did I not? Though it was Demise who held my mind and soul captive, it was I who did the deed. That cannot be denied.”

“H-he used you,” Wind hiccups. “You…you can’t blame your-yourself.”

“Sprite wouldn’t want you to.” Warriors says it so low Sky can hardly catch the words. But First hears them. He looks up at the captain, expression a mask that is rapidly breaking.

“You do not deserve such pain.” Gently, he nudges Sky’s hand off and rises on shaky legs. “None of you do.”

“He’s dead, though,” Legend mumbles. There is no bite in his tone. Only sorrow. “Sorry, but nothing you do can change that.”

First smiles, small and sad. “That is not necessarily true.”

He walks to Time’s side and kneels down, heedless of the blood that seeps into his trousers. Slowly, he reaches out and lays a hand on the hero’s shoulder. Beneath his palm golden light begins to glow.

“I know a spell. I can bring him back.”

Hyrule raises his head, frowning. “But the only spells that can bring…bring back the dead are – ” His eyes widen. “First, no!”

The hero closes his eyes, that horrible smile still lifting his lips. 

“Forgive me.”

The glow grows until it is blinding. Sky pushes through it anyway, panic eating away at him. Hyrule doesn’t even have to speak the words. He knows enough about magic to know nothing that deals in life and death ever ends well.

Just as he reaches his side, First crumples.

…and Time begins to breathe.

Sky falls to his knees. The others are talking in panicked tones around him, but he can’t hear their words. All he hears is an incessant ringing, mingled with the sound of his own breathing, too loud, much too loud. All he feels is First’s body, limp in his hands as he lifts it from the ground. 

Why? He asks, in the form of the tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks, in the shaking of his hands, the defeated exhaustion creeping in to pull him down, down, down. We could’ve figured out another way. Why?

But even as he thinks it he knows. There was no other way. Fairies and potions are powerful. They cannot, however, revive the dead. Once your heart stops beating it is over. All that is left is to start over again or embrace endless rest.

Time would still be dead if not for First’s sacrifice. Sky only wishes that one brother had not been traded for another.

If he had been faster, stronger, perhaps he could have prevented all of this. But it is over now. Nothing more can be done.

So, as the sun peeks out over the horizon, Sky buries his face in First’s cape, just as he did what feels like an eternity ago. And he sobs. Sobs out the fury that eats him alive. Sobs out the anguish that tears him apart. 

He doesn’t see it when First begins to glow. It is not until a voice murmurs on the wings of the wind that he looks up, breath hitching.

“Your time is not yet finished, hero. Rise and embrace those who call you one of their own.”

And in the next moment, First drags in a strangled gasp.

He blinks his eyes open, staring up at Sky with a dazed expression and Sky stares back. Then, Legend shouts, “hey, he’s alive!” and his world bursts back into light and color.

“You’re alive,” he chokes, and pulls the hero into a hug. 

First goes rigid for a moment, then practically melts into him, releasing a shaky sigh.

“I am,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

[sophieswundergarten]

So. Everyone who yelled at me yesterday for making a ramble on Reynie going blank and then not resolving it, this is for you: (@lemondropletters, you have been tagged)

Also, it's in a Google Doc because it was definitely too long for a Tumblr post, and ~~I don't know how AO3 works~~

The (vague) premise is that, instead of Constance seeing Curtain's broadcast, they all get to the compound mentally sound, but once there, they split up to look for Mr. Benedict, and instead Reynie finds Curtain. This is the wrap up of what would have happened in the last episode.

[eyes1nthewoods]

watched nimona. it was ok.

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— BATHROOM OF POSSIBILITIES ˚ 𖦹‧ . - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🥝‧₊ : "is it true that you're a whore ??"

summary. who would've thought that you'd end up fucking your besties socially awkward friend in a bar bathroom??? (only to get caught by your bestie..) anything is possible !

notes. omg i'm so sorry i SUCK at writing threesomes, i won't even try!! i still hope asker is satisfied, much lovee!! ₊˚⊹♡

warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) (002 / getting caught), jk is socially awkward around new ppl (we r lowkey twinning here), cocksucker & whore mentioned, unprotected sex :( (they r reckless and a lil stupid), bathroom sex

the guy yoongi dragged into the conversation was hot- like really hot.

usually when yoongi introduces you to his other friends, they're either high, drunk or filthy rich that just seemed to be the typa guys yoongi attracted- nonetheless maybe this guy was all of the above.

though weirdly enough his eyes didn't quite settle like ever, he couldn't look you in the eyes even just once as yoongi punches his arm lightly for him to talk.

"hey," he greeted, and the sound that escaped his lips was unexpectedly awkward, almost stumbling over the single syllable.

yoongi chuckled, sensing the surprise on your face. "Don't let the intimidating exterior fool you," he teased, clapping Jungkook on the back. "jungkook here is a little socially awkward. it's kind of adorable, actually, you're gonna love him tho"

"why are you talking about me like i'm not right by your side," jungkook mumbeled quietly in response, his gaze looking to his feet as yoongi smiled at him like he was some forgein never-been-seen before animal species, ignoring his response, "he's exactly like the guys you usually fuck"

"now that just sounds like i blow all your friends off, that's just wrong, yoon-" you snickered, shaking your head, sipping the rest of his drink down in a swift motion as yoongi rolled his eyes, "can you stop drinking my shit? man, i can give your broke ass a few pennies for a drink" he pinched your cheek like he was talking to a child, "let me do chariety work"

"sounds just like something an old man like you'd do," you leaned against the bar casually, "y'know do some chariety and then take your little nap"

yoongi rolled his once again, quite poorly hiding the grin that snuck it's way onto his face, turning full way to jungkook like he forgot of your existence, "see? she's a brat, a menace, a whore- anything under the sun-" he paused like he was thinking of something, "i need a drink"

till turning again, pointing a finger at you, "cause you drank it all up, you'll pay for it sooner or later" slowly walking off not even waiting for an answer as you yelled, "shouldn't have insinuated that i'm a brainless cock sucker"

after he was out of sight, you turned your attention to jungkook who's eyes had been observing every detail of the past conversation, you shook your head in pretend-frustration, emphasizing: "sorry you had to witness that, when it gets over the time of 12pm and he's desperately over his bed time, he just gets so..." you sighed like you were in extreme concern, "cocky"

it was the first time your eyes linked, a small but growing smile on his face, "you're funny, i like you"

"well then it doesn't take much to impress you," you smiled back, thinking for a few seconds. no, you wanted to know more about the dude- at least one of you has to try. "but for real why are you out of all people friends with yoongi?"

he tilted his head up slightly like he was in fact trying to look into his brain to see an answer, "i think he's fun.. at times and i'm pretty sure he's a sweetie at heart"

you nod along, yoongi can be truly insufferable but if he did care when needed and maybe that was just enough- you shook your head trying to not overthink it all of a sudden, switching the topic, "truth or dare"

he raised his eyebrows for a split second, surprised by the abrupt topic switch, "truth"

"weirdest place you've ever had sex?"

he let out a little breathy chuckle, the sound of jungkooks laughter generally pretty, "an ikea bedroom," he played with his lip piercing like he was contemplaiting wheather he should say the next thing, "just a bit of fingering nothing to extreme nonetheless truth or dare?"

"truth"

"you're no fun," he pouted jokingly till adding, "is it true that you're a whore?"

this was not the position you imagined yourself at the end of the night- no, scratch that, this was not the man you imagined to be with in this position, pressed against the mirror of a dirty bathroom, ass hurting from the bath sink you were seated on, jungkook out of all balls deep into you.

his mouth was pressed against your neck, whispering horny sweet nothings against the bare skin, how much of a cock sucker you actually were, how easy it was for him to get you here, how stupid and solely cock-focused you were.

it was like all his awkwardness wore off the longer he lingered next to you as he pounded into you like he had fucked you tens of times before.

you didn't care if you were completely reckless right now or if the door was open and anyone could fucking walk in at any given moment or where yoongi was - after all maybe jungkook was right: all you could think of right now was his dick deep inside you.

"do you go around and fuck around with all of his friends behind his back or is it just me? mmh, c'mon answer" your tongue felt tied, it was like you had water in your ear, his words not quite audible as you shook your head, not getting it, "made for taking dick, exactly like i thought"

he spread your legs a bit wider, cock scretching your pussy just the right way as you creeked out something about 'needing to cum'

his fingers entertwined in your hair, pulling it just lightly, biting his lips trying to conceal a whimper at the feeling of your pussy tightning round him, "i'll give it to you, wanna have you cum all over my dick"

a high pitched scream aired through the room, so loud like somebody had witnessed a murder - simultaneously it felt like your little bubble of pure utter hornieness had popped, looking to your right to look at a deeply digusted min yoongi, who's hands were already covering his eyes like a defence mechanism.

"it's not what it looks like!"

you both yelled, jungkook pulling out instantly covering you with his shirt that had been thrown onto the ground like fifteen minutes ago, "what do you mean? your dick was in-" he shook his head dramatically and in a repeated fashion while you threw your clothes on as fast as you possibly could, "i don't think we can be friends anymore.. that image uhh-" he did another disgusted expression, covering his mouth like he was still in after-shook.

it took about ten minutes to calm yoongi down (and a whole lot of promises and gaslight about how he was probably to drunk for his own good) till you both sat him down into a taxi taht was going to safely drive him home.

you stood there outside the bar in the cold air of the night silently for a little while before you both started laughing, what started as a tiny chuckle turned into cackling like maniacs.

eventually you got your shit together, mumbling "well that was awkward" he grinned in response, "right before cumming too- how cruel"

jungkook played with his piercing once again, gaze zoning out shortly till returning to yours, "how about i take you home and you get to finish off just like you deserve?"

[sincerelyyycece]

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James?  Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚chris' girl chp. 2 ― matt sturniolo

summary: y/n confides in matt on the drive home

notes/warnings: chris x influencer!reader x matt, some suggestive mentions (talk of sex & virginity) , y/n and chris have a toxic relationship, dialogue heavy/filler and i HATE it lol+ this song is so matt it hurts

thank you all for waiting, ily asf !! :*

(edited, but definitely not my best i fear)

matt's blood went cold. his muscles tensed so much from sheer embarrassment that he felt sore sitting up in bed.

shit. shit. shit. shit.

tucking his boner into the waistband of his boxers, he hopped out of bed and threw some pajama pants and a random shirt on. about to knock again, matt opened the door to reveal y/n, a light sheen of sweat across her chest and forehead. most of her makeup had faded or been smeared off and her hair wasn't as smooth as it was at the beginning of the night. small flakes of mascara stuck to the skin under eyes and flushed cheeks. had she been crying? or was it from fucking? or both? he couldn't tell.

she flashed a weak smile, holding both her high heels in her hand, "sorry, i didn't mean to wake you."

"no, you're good. i was barely asleep," matt lied assuringly, scanning her face for a clear expression.

she fidgeted with the straps of her shoes, struggling with what to say.

"do you want me to take you home?" matt provided quietly, unsure whether or not chris was awake or if he'd even care.

y/n's eyes lit up at matt's offer, nodding. "yes please. if that's okay?"

this never happened. y/n always spent the night with chris. and now matt was about to be in the car with her. just her. he didn't allow himself too much excitement, though. not until he knew what was going on with her.

"of course," matt whispered, leaving the doorway for a moment to grab his car keys and a jacket.

"oh, wait. one sec," y/n set down her shoes in the hallway, carefully opening chris' door. chris laid on his side, fast asleep. y/n pulled a hoodie from his dresser and put it on over her dress, the thick fabric draping over her thighs completely. tip toeing to the bed, she leaned over chris, whispering, "matt's gonna take me home, okay?" lowering her face to his, she pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek, "love you."

matt felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. it almost made him sad, y/n talking to chris as if he could hear anything she's saying. surely, she knows he can't hear her and that's what makes it even more sad.

matt zipped up his jacket, the noise causing y/n to end her moment with chris and leave his room. she shut his door with a little creak, but chris remained in a deep state of sleep. matt gestured to outside the hallway to leave, y/n leading the way through the living room and back down the stairs.

she stayed uncharacteristically quiet as matt drove. he wasn't sure what to do or say - or if she even wanted him to. he could sense some kind of apprehension from her, like she wanted to tell him something but couldn't find a way to articulate it. suddenly, in the weighted silence, y/n's stomach growled loudly. she gasped, giggling a bit at the abrupt noise. finally, her smile.

matt joined her laughter, turning into the second to last intersection before her house, "you wanna get something to eat real quick?"

y/n looked at him again with bright eyes, like a little kid. "can we? i didn't eat at the party."

matt tapped the gps on his console screen, ending the route, "yeah, me neither. i'm starving."

"what's gonna be open this late, though?"

matt cracked a knowing smile, putting his blinker on and turning into a shopping plaza. at nearly 1 am, only two of three cars took up the otherwise empty parking lot. however, at the end of the plaza, a long line of cars wrapped around the in n out drive-thru.

"oh, thank god." y/n exhaled deeply in relief, making praying hands, "i'm gonna pass out."

matt chuckles, maneuvering the car to the back of the line, "please don't do that. not on my watch, chris will kill me."

y/n's smile fades, her body language turning demure.

shit. way to go, idiot.

"not so sure about that." her voice is small as stares at the car in front of them

hesitantly matt asks, "okay, i know it's none of my business and you totally don't have to answer, but...is everything okay? like with you and him?", he inches the car further in line.

she's conflicted, it's all over her face. she runs a hand through her scalp and leaves it there, propping her elbow up against the car door to lean on.

she shakes her head, "you're gonna think i'm crazy." the car ahead's red tail lights cast across her face, making her eyes glisten.

matt lets the wheels roll an inch or two, then stops to catch her gaze. her big eyes meet his and, without fail, his heart flutters.

"no, seriously, i won't judge. i promise." and he means it.

she knows he means it too, which is why she continues.

"okay, um-you know kenzie coy?"

"uh, the blonde girl that does the fitness tiktoks?" matt confirms, even though he knew exactly who she was, unfortunately.

kenzie coy; widely known for her viral workout videos and lingerie pictures on instagram, caught the attention of most young guys in l.a. and if they weren't in l.a. to see her in person, they were probably jerking off to her pictures in the lonely confinement of their bedrooms.

"yeah, her." y/n says, slouching more into the seat, "i think chris and her are hooking up. they were talking at the party and she kept putting her hand on his shoulder like they'd known each other for years. plus, he laughed at every little thing she was saying, even the shit that wasn't funny. it was so weird, matt. i don't know, something just feels off and i can't let it go."

god, what are you doing, chris?

"no, there's no way." matt refutes with certainty, "he's with you. he likes you, y/n. always has, simple as that."

"me," huffing, "and kenzie." she adds, attempting to prove a point, but matt's unsure.

he quirks an eyebrow in disbelief, having to do a double-take before driving forward a bit more. "what? like at the same time?"

she shrugs, "it's possible is all i'm saying," now turning to face matt, "to like two people... simultaneously."

matt's face goes warm, grateful that the red car lights mask the vivid blush probably forming. he can feel her eyes on him as he rolls down his window to order their food. though he admittedly knows y/n's order by heart, his speech is jumbled. a stutter persistent throughout the entire order, but the employee doesn't seem to have trouble taking it and telling them to pull forward. matt fumbles around his jacket pocket for his wallet with shaky hands, retrieving his credit card from the sleeve and almost dropping it.

does she know what she's doing? how her words sound?

"i-i mean, yeah. technically that's possible, but-" matt's interrupted by another employee as he pulls up to the window to pay. quick, but politely, matt thanks the employee and grabs the bag of food. "do you wanna eat on the way home or-"

"actually, can you park for a sec?" y/n asks, taking the bag of food from his lap and placing it on hers.

her question nearly makes matt run over the drive-thru curb, maneuvering the car into the nearest parking spot. "yeah, are you good?"

"yeah, no, i'm fine. this night's just been a lot. i kinda wanna chill out for a bit." she explains, hand diving into the white bag for her burger and fries. she sets her food on her lap, then goes back to the bag for matt's, handing it to him with a smile.

"thanks." he can barely choke out, the atmosphere suddenly feeling incredibly intimate as he turns the car's ignition off. now it was really just him and her, no background noise, no distractions, no chris.

"what were you saying earlier, before you ordered?" y/n tosses a fry into her mouth

"oh nothing. i was just saying that it's possible, but you guys made up, right? so i wouldn't worry about it."

y/n let out a breathy laugh, in between chewing, " 'made up' isn't what i would call it."

he's not sure what's gotten into him, but matt takes advantage of this surge of confidence. "okay, then what would you call it?" matt furthered. there was no going back now.

a little surprised by his boldness, y/n raises her eyebrows, putting her fries down on her lap and shifting to face him again. "i'd say we put a bandaid on it. something temporary, like we always do," she looks down shyly at the space between them, "but sex doesn't fix everything, y'know?"

flustered, matt chokes on a fry, patting his chest for air.

y/n rapidly back-pedals at his reaction, "oh my god, sorry. he's your brother, you don't wanna hear about that."

matt takes a sip of water from the center console, and regains his breath. "no, no, it's okay." clearing his throat, "i'd imagine it doesn't."

she frowns at this, a little smirk forming in the corner of her lips. "'imagine'?"

oh god. just shut up, matt.

"i mean, like-it's-y'know?" he tries, but can't save himself whatsoever, "fuck." embarrassed, he gives up with a defeated laugh, taking a giant bite of his burger to silence himself.

y/n giggles, licking some salt off her finger, "you've never...?"

she wants me dead.

chewing down the bite, matt swallows with a loud 'gulp', making her giggle more. "uh, no, i haven't...it's really embarrassing."

y/n shakes her head, "no, it's not," carefully she asks, "is there a reason why?"

her tone is sweet and genuine. he could tell, for some reason, she really cared about what he'd say next.

"honestly, yeah." matt avoided her gaze, "i have a hard time, like...getting to that point i guess?"

he wasn't sure why he was spilling his guts to her like this. he's never told anyone this and he swore he never would.

but it's y/n. everyone told y/n their secrets. she was just that kind of person.

she tilts her head teasingly, humming in denial, "mhm"

matt's heart skips a beat, his brain going blank. "what?"

"i think you know what you want, matt," her voice is like velvet saying his name, "and you know how to get it. the only thing holding you back is yourself." she speaks so matter-of-factly, so innocent, it drives him fucking insane.

the tension in the car was so thick, it clouded his usual rationality. for a split second, he was convinced she was trying to tell him something. an innuendo of sorts.

but that thought is soon dismissed when she continues, "regardless, you're smart for waiting. your first time is better when it's with someone you genuinely care about." she didn't have to say it. matt knew who she was talking about. but just to twist the knife, she adds, "but it does make you get attached... i think that's my problem right now with chris."

and just like that, the moment was over.

only able to nod in agreement, matt turns the car back on, discarding his burger wrapper into the white bag along with some used napkins."it's getting late. i should probably take you home."

y/n sits back up in her seat, gathering her trash and tossing it as well. "yeah, good idea." she says, blinking a couple times back into reality. for those 30 minutes they spent together, time seemed to pause.

the drive to y/n's house is silent, but not like before when they were leaving the party. the silence is comfortable. y/n admires the city lights that flash and flicker by, illuminating the area surrounding her. she looked at everything with such awe, appreciating little details in arbitrary things. it's something that matt loved most about her, something that chris would bring up to their mom when describing her. such a double-edged sword, the whole thing was. and yet, matt kept coming back for more.

he pulled up to her driveway, parking the car and turning to her. she smiles at him sincerely. "thank you," she grabs her high heels from the floor and opens the door, "for the food, for everything, really."

matt internally melts,"no problem, any time."

"goodnight, get home safe." she whispers, closing the door and walking to her front door

fuck it, matt. just say it.

he rolls down his window and raises his voice so she can hear him from the car, "oh, hey, for the record,"

"yeah?" she steps forwards a little, amused.

"fuck kenzie coy."

y/n erupts with laughter, putting a hand over her mouth as to not wake her neighbors.

"you're miles prettier than she'll ever be, i mean it."

she shakes her head bashfully. for the first time ever, he was seeing her get flustered by a compliment. "you're sweet." she reaches for her front door, "goodnight, matt."

"goodnight, y/n." matt rolls up his window, reversing back onto the street and driving away. once he was fully off her block, he silently cheered, gripping the steering wheel and rocking in celebration. if nick or chris were there, they would never let him hear of the end of how corny he was being. but he didn't care. they weren't there. truthfully, if the night had gone differently, he would've got out with her and talked more. but he was exhausted and so was she. the moment didn't call for it yet. he had time, he just had to bide it.

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @soimightlikeoldmen69 , @sl0t4matt , @st7rnioioss , @sturn3ol0 , @vickyzloserz , @@mayhem-72 , @imsosillygoofylol , @scofposts , @st7rnioioss , @iloveneilperry , @sukiipjs , @junnniiieee07 , @remussbitch , @tatumrileyslover , @imfromthediningtable , @mattsgirlsblog , @obsessededwithyou , @mctties , @divanaspiteri , @lustfulslxt , @flowerxbunnie , @m4ttslvr , @streamermattsgf , @asturniolos , @tubl-mc , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniol0s , @pleasantlycrazyworld , @sillysillygyal , @evanpeterslvr , @chrizznmetswife , @seahorsie11 , @braindead4l , @iloveapplejacks , @enyaslover , @thvvluvr , @stur-ni-o-lo , @domaniquessidehoe

lmk if u wanna be added, hotties !! if i hit the tag limit, i'll tag in the comments :))

[faintedlcve]

False Fronts

part 1 of 4

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: fake dating, arguing, not proof read and my writing 😔

Summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.

there will most definitely be a part 2

i will absolutely credit @berryzxx for helping me and giving me ideas for this haha

sorry if anyone's name is Jess ily i swear mwah <;33

he's such a cutie tehe

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst

You were going about your usual business, wandering the empty corridors of Hogwarts. The prospect of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, particularly with Umbridge as the professor, filled you with dread. Determined to delay your arrival as much as possible, you lingered, reluctant to head to your lesson.

As you strolled through the corridors, distant murmurs reached your ears. Tracing their origin, the faint echoes evolved into a heated dispute—a boy and a girl embroiled in a passionate disagreement. Step by step, you closed the distance until their fervent voices became distinct and clear.

"Look, Jess, it's over. O-V-E-R." You could hear the boy say to someone who you could only assume was called Jess.

"But I don't want it to be over! I still love you! Please, I'm sorry!" The girl, presumably Jess, begged.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you went and cheated on me." His response cut through the air, chilling in its icy tone, sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. Whoever he was, his disdain for Jess was palpable. His voice was unmistakable, you having heard it all your life. You knew who it was.

He sauntered off, leaving both Jess and you dumbfounded. Peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the boy, you inadvertently crashed into the very person—Theodore Nott—you were trying to observe.

As you collided with Theodore Nott, his demeanor shifted from the tense confrontation to one of mild surprise, his dark eyes locking with yours in an unexpected encounter. You stumbled back a step, catching your breath as you met his gaze, both of you momentarily stunned by the abrupt intersection.

"Y/N," Theodore uttered your name, a flicker of recognition dancing across his features before settling into a composed mask. "Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

Your mind raced, trying to process the scene you'd just witnessed. His confrontation with Jess seemed far more serious than a typical teenage quarrel. Sensing your curiosity, Theodore's expression shifted a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Listen," he started, his voice lowering to a hushed tone as if sharing a secret. "I need a favor, and I think you might be the perfect solution."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Theodore hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"Jess won't leave me alone. She's been causing a scene ever since things ended between us. I need... I need someone to help me out, to pretend to be with me, just to get her off my back. It's purely for appearances, nothing more."

His request hung in the air, unexpected and oddly intriguing. Theodore Nott, asking for your assistance in a situation as serious as this. You weighed his words, contemplating the implications of what he proposed, your mind swirling with questions about why he'd chosen you for such a peculiar task.

"Please. I'll ask nothing more of you. Just some PDA. Slight touches, whatever you're comfortable with."

The allure of being close to him warred with the fear of playing a role in a situation that could easily spin out of control. Yet, despite the inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope danced in your chest—an opportunity to be near Theodore, even if it was only as part of a facade.

You'd been friends with Theo for what felt like forever. He trusted you, and that meant a lot. Sure, there was that fear of being stuck in the friend zone, but when you thought about it, the chance to help him seemed more important. He wanted this, and he was your friend. So, yeah, you wanted to be there for him.

After a moment's hesitation, you gathered your resolve and nodded in agreement, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fury of emotions raging within you. "Alright, Theodore. I'll help you out."

A flicker of relief crossed Theodore's face, a barely perceptible shift in his expression that hinted at gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one."

As the weight of your decision settled in, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of what you'd just agreed to. Theodore's proposal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and the realization that you were about to embark on a fake relationship with someone you genuinely cared for made your heart race with both anticipation and anxiety.

Theodore glanced around, as if to ensure no one else was nearby, before leaning in closer. "Let's meet later today and discuss how we're going to pull this off, alright? Preferably somewhere private."

Nodding in agreement, your mind raced with a million questions, but you managed to offer a reassuring smile. "Sure, Theodore. I'll be there."

As he walked away, you were left standing there, your mind spinning. The whole idea was thrilling, but it also felt like stepping onto a rollercoaster without knowing the twists and turns ahead. For now, all you could do was wait and meet up with Theodore and realise the depths of the situation you just put yourself into.

Either way, this fake dating thing just became your reality, and you had no clue where it would lead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hello, hi! read part 2 here :))

[gendercomsumer]

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

[leclerc-hs]

fille stupide pt. 3 - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader / max verstappen x fem!reader Summary: in which you now kind of know French and a not so stranger is still here Warnings: smut, oral (f-receiving), angstyyyy (?), cheating (again, i'm sorry), 18+!, not proofread!!, bad French (correct me please!!), bad Dutch (correct me please!!) Word Count: 1985 Author's Note: ok so I think we'll end fille stupide here 🤭 I absolutely loved writing this (if you couldn't tell by how fast i was able to write it lmaooo). I honestly WOULD NOT mind writing more scenarios for them in the future. Like if I ever write mean dom charles, my mind will automatically come back to them. please don't forget to leave feedback! love y'all french edited by @shewantsvengeance!!! dutch edited by @deanlovescassie!!!

PART 1 PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

STARTLED BY A loud bang in the kitchen, you jolt awake. The bright sun streaming through your windows blinds you as you try to make sense of the abrupt awakening and your surroundings. You were no longer naked; a large plain white t-shirt enveloped your body. A t-shirt you don’t remember even putting on or falling asleep in. A t-shirt, that’s not even yours.

Caution gripped you as you inched towards the kitchen, moving slowly down the hall. The muffled sounds persisted, their meaning elusive, while the clattering of cabinets continued. As you finally reached the corner of the hallway, you were met with the sight of a partially naked Charles in the kitchen, an array of food on the stove top cooked. The aroma of bacon and eggs wafted through the kitchen, prompting your stomach to audibly grumble in response. You leaned against the countertop across from him, just watching the muscles of his back flex with each deliberate movement. He stayed?

You let out a breath of air in relief at the sight of him. Not just because he was there and stayed, but because it wasn’t somebody breaking in.

He didn’t even turn around before saying, “Où ranges-tu tes assiettes?” Where do you keep your plates? “Oh, I found them!” He didn’t have to turn around to sense your presence; all his senses seemed attuned to your proximity. Your body called to him, like it demanded his attention. As if your cells were able to alert his own, screaming for them to merge with yours.

You felt a swirl of need form in your stomach at the sight of your scratch marks on his back. As if he was marked for your territory only. You also felt a surge of panic form in your throat as the memories of last night came flooding back. 

Tell me who your body belongs to.

Je t’appartiens, Charles.

A sensation of unease churned in your stomach as thoughts of Max’s face crossed your mind. The guilt weighed heavily, and you felt on the verge of nausea for what you had done to him. How was it possible that something so bad felt so good? It was as if Charles held complete control over you, rendering you senseless and devoid of rational thoughts and actions. Tears prick at your eyes as you observe the bruises on the insides of your legs and felt the welts on your neck. Your body looks and feels both used and abused. Nothing about this situation is okay. Last night, you both had been remarkably careless. 

The panic began to subside only when Charles turned around and met your gaze. His eyes, an unusually light shade of green, captured your attention. His disheveled hair hinted at just having woken up not too long ago.

“I didn’t know you stayed,” you began, confusion laced in your voice. “I heard the door shut last night.”

“Fille stupide,” Stupid girl. A smile crept on his face, carrying a mocking undertone that seemed directed at you.  “I went to store to get you a pill last night. Je suis revenu.” I came back.

You despised how profoundly his words impacted you, how his return stirred a need for you to rationalize both your actions and his, even when there was no justification for what had transpired. Anxious, your fingers fidgeted with the end of the T-shirt that rested at the middle of your thighs. He advanced towards you, trapping you between him and the counter – a familiar position whenever you find yourself in his presence. His hands find their way to your face, their size enough to envelope majority of it. His fingers sprawl on your jawline, and his thumbs rest on your cheekbones as he looks at you. Really looks at you. Like he’s memorizing every inch of your face. Like you’re a textbook and he has a test to study for. 

“Tu es tellement belle,” You’re so beautiful. Despite his sweet words, a sinister gleam in his eyes followed the contours of your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pressed himself to you, “I meant what I said last night.”

Mine, you’re fucking mine.

The ache in between your legs was growing with each passing second. He was too close, his smell and warmth surrounding you, creating a sense of intoxication. You felt the need to press your thighs together, but Charles stood between them, smirking down at you like he knew. 

Words fail you as you gaze up at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He stands there patiently, waiting as you study the furrow of his eyebrow. He stands there patiently, waiting as your eyes delve into his, memorizing every shade of color within them. He stands there patiently, waiting as your gaze fixates on his lips.

It was almost as if you didn’t have a choice. Like he was a pre-determined answer to your life. A definition to your word.

“Guess I didn’t give it to you hard enough last night, hm?” It wasn’t until your hands settle on his biceps that he realizes you’ve given him consent. Suddenly, his hands are everywhere. Roaming your body like an unexplored map; squeezing your waist, pinching your nipples, squeezing your butt. He just can’t get enough of you. “Need me to take the ache away?”

A moan escapes your lips as you yield, unable to resist him. Your body, seemingly under his command, surrenders to its desires. 

His tongue presses against yours, never losing contact. He quickly flips the both of you around, pushing you until your back met the countertop of the island. With determination, he lifts you onto it, shoving anything that finds solace there, to the floor. His hands push you down, so you now lay sprawled on the counter in the center of the kitchen. You replacing the breakfast Charles had made.

“Mon dieu,” My God. He growls at the sight of your legs spread and bare for him. “Je pourrais mourir heureux.” I could die happy. You have no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. Especially when his tongue met your clit, licking you as if you were the last meal on Earth and he was starving.

His two fingers slid into your heated core, curling them to brush your g-spot with every stroke. “Tellement bon,” So fucking good. He’s moaning into your pussy, sending you into oblivion. 

“Putain de salope.” Fucking dirty slut. He manages to mumble in between your legs, the vibration of his words pushing you closer to the edge.

Around his fingers, you clench. You revel in the feeling of him in you, no matter what or how it’s done. Your fingers clench in his hair, it’s longer than the first time you met, tugging to anchor yourself. His hands on you are equivalent to an out of body experience. You could never tire of it. 

“You like that?” Yes! You wanted to yell. You more than liked it. You loved it.

It wasn’t until his other hand, the one not inside of you, groped one of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, that you went flying over the edge, relishing in the waves of pleasure as he continues to thrust his fingers in you – coaxing you through the orgasm. 

His mouth is hot on you, swallowing anything you’ll give him. Your legs shake, his mouth on you becoming too much as you squirm until he stops and looks at you, his lips glossy and coated.

“Tellement foutrement doux,” So fucking sweet. He murmured as he pulled you up, holding you in an upright position to look at him. You still don’t know what he’s saying, but you didn’t care. Your ears were ringing as you came down from your high, feeling limp against the hands of Charles.

You shut your eyes as you began to feel the panic surge. You gave in, again.  He peppered small kisses to your neck, almost too softly, a stark contrast from how he treats you in the midst of sex. He was soft with you now -- tender. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop. As if sensing your panic, Charles tips your chin to look at him.

“Cherie, you are made for me.” You feel the panic claw at your throat, constricting you, and the tears begin to spill from your eyes. “Don’t you see?”

You did see it. You could see it clear as day. After all, there wasn’t a day that he wasn’t on your mind since the first encounter. You don’t understand what’s happening to you. How could you betray Max like this? He didn’t deserve it, and you didn’t deserve him. It feels like there’s no choice when it comes to Charles. It’s as if your body responds instantly to his mere gaze. He’s the batteries, and you’re the remote control. Completely useless without its batteries.

You knew you had to tell Max. You couldn’t bear to hurt him any further. You observed Charles begin to furrow his eyebrows in frustration as he sensed you withdrawing from him. The sight pained him, and it hurt to witness.

“I need to tell Max,” You started, but were quickly cut off by a voice.

“Tell Max what?” 

You felt your heart stop and face flush red, as none other than Max stood just a few feet away in the entry way of your home, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a spare key to your apartment in the other. Time seemed to slow down as you observed Max’s eyes darting between the proximity of you and Charles. There you were, perched on the counter, with Charles standing between your legs. Your cheeks flushed red as you sat with nothing but Charles t-shirt on your body. The kitchen island was wiped clean, everything scattered on the floor. The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension.

He didn’t even speak. He simply dropped the flowers and spare key on the entry way table and turned around, heading for the door. You shoved Charles out of the way, running towards the door. Running towards Max.

“Please, I can explain,” you were shouting. Completely panicked. But really, there was nothing to explain. It was clear as day, all cards laid out on the table in front of Max’s eyes.

“You don’t need to explain.” He scoffed, his jaw clenched in anger, as his eyes bounced from you, standing in front of him, to Charles, who remained planted in the kitchen. “Ik ben er klaar mee.” I’m done. He spoke in his native tongue, knowing you understood.

“Ik walg van je.” You disgust me. His words were sharp, stabbing you where it hurt most. He couldn’t even look you in the eye as he stepped out of the apartment as fast as he could.

You convince yourself that something has to be wrong with you. You were so mad that you did this. So mad that you hurt Max. But still, despite it all, everything with Charles feels so right.

Tears spilled hotly from your eyes, falling to the floor as you sobbed into your hands. Charles hurried over, lifting you to your feet and cradling you in his arms. Swiftly, he carried you to your bed, gently placing you on the covers. Pulling you into his chest, he held you tightly, providing comfort and solace.

“Je te protégerai.” I’ll keep you safe. Charles mutters into the nape of your neck, rubbing your back soothingly as you cry into him. “Tu es faite pour moi.” You’re meant for me.

You cried for what felt like hours. Charles only continued to whisper sweet nothings to you as he held you. You cried until you were limp with exhaustion, eyes closing, surrounded in the warmth of Charles. You didn’t deserve it.

“I will be here when you wake up, Cherie.” ----------- sorry max, you need to lose something 🤭

[knave-hearts]

Sunshine

Clarisse La Rue x fem!Aphrodite kid!reader

ᝰ.ᐟ If somebody told you a year ago that you'd be spending your summer at a summer camp for demigods after being chased by a cyclops, you probably would've shrugged them off as crazy. What's even crazier though, is finding out your presumably dead mother is actually the Greek goddess of love. I guess that explains the sudden glow up you had mid-winter break after you dreamt about a pink glowing symbol hovering above your head one night.

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings: probably ooc Clarisse, tooth-rotting fluff, I think that's all

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: I've only read the first book so I'm sorry in advance if some stuff are wrong, I literally love her sm I can't even

‎♡‧₊˚🧸🎀

Stumbling on overgrown tree roots, you literally ran for your life as the ground shook with each of the cyclops's stomps. You might be wondering how you got here in the first place.

You were peacefully listening to music with your headsets on, admiring the passing trees as the bus' movements combined with your music began to lull you to sleep. However, it was interrupted when your body jerked in your seat when the bus abruptly stopped.

Opening your eyes, you saw the bus driver ushering the passengers out and naturally you followed. Turns out, the bus broke down and you all had to wait until the driver finished fixing what was wrong. Since you figured it would take a while, you began to wonder off from the crowd of passengers when you saw a butterfly fluttering in the wind. You clutched your backpack's straps and began trying to follow where the butterfly would go.

After wondering around, you eventually lost sight of the insect so you decided to head back... If it wasn't for the looming shadow you noticed when you looked down at your newly bought white shoes. Every hair on your body raised with alarm as you didn't even think to look up and started to run without even looking where you were going.

Your body was going on autopilot as you ran faster than you've ever had in your entire life (besides that one time someone thought it was funny to toss a cockroach at you).

Your legs started to burn from all the running and you contemplated whether you should just ditch your backpack to be able to run faster. But the rational side of your brain was screaming at you to not lose the stuff you've just bought. You spent the past few days staying with one of your old friends who lived away from you and you both ended up shopping for a lot of things during your time there.

Anyway, back to where we were. The cyclops started to gain up on you and you almost lost hope of ever getting out of there alive when a pine tree on top of a hill caught your eye. As if clockwork, you started to run faster with the little bit of energy you had left and started to run up the hill. When you reached the top of the hill, you saw a barn near a field of strawberries.

Your moment of awe was cut short when you heard the loud sounds of the cyclops. Every muscle in your body was begging for rest and you couldn't even run anymore as you collapsed near the pine tree waiting for your inevitable doom.

However, what you didn't expect was for the monster to come to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from your limp body. Huffing and growling in anger. You on the other hand was trying to process why the monster stopped. The sound of your heavy pants filled the suddenly quiet but tense atmosphere. Your eyelids felt heavy and it finally dawned on you that you had earned some scratches while trying to run through the forest and all the cuts and scrapes started to hurt. The last thing you heard before you lost consciousness was the sound of a war cry.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

The next time you woke up, you were on a soft bed. It took a moment but when things started to register in your mind, you shot up from your laying position and started to whip your head in every possible direction trying to find any semblance of familiarity.

Your frantic movements paused when you heard the sound of the door opening. It was a tall girl, probably your age. "Morning, sunshine. I'm assigned to tour you today." she grumbled. You were probably gawking for way too long because she spoke again "well, what are you waiting for? We don't have all day. Don't worry about your stuff."

Without wasting time, you hopped off the bed and put on your stained white shoes (which you noted that you'll have to clean when you had the chance). You noticed your cardigan was hung on the headboard so you took it and put it on. Now that you had time to check over yourself, you realized that all the cuts and bruises you had were completely gone and that you were still wearing the shirt and pants you were previously wearing.

You ran to the nearest possible reflective surface. The bow you were wearing before was also on the desk beside the bed so you tried to do something decent with it. Clarisse, on the other hand, was surprisingly waiting patiently while you tried to fix your hair. 'Definetly an Aphrodite kid'

"Done. What do you think? Do I look okay?" You asked her, straightening out your cardigan.

She did a once over and she had to admit, you clean up good. "You look fine, sunshine." And with that, she lead you out of the barn house and began to tour you around the camp, also explaining things on the way because she had a hunch that you probably didn't even know anything. Clarisse wondered how you even survived for that long outside.

The tour ended when you approached a cabin numbered 10. "And here is your cabin, your stuff's already inside." You stopped fiddling with your hands (a habit you developed when you were nervous or shy). "Thank you, Clarisse." She introduced herself right after you both left the barn and in turn you also introduced yourself.

"Sure. Whatever." And with that, she left you to your own devices.

Your half siblings were pretty nice to you and you were grateful for that. You didn't know what you would've done if you weren't close with anyone. You hated feeling isolated.

Everyday was unique on its own, sometimes you were by yourself reading a book you brought with you or you were with your siblings, following them wherever they'd go. Sometimes you would even see Clarisse with her half-siblings whenever you'd pass by the sparring grounds.

You'll never miss a chance to wave at her everytime you'd see her. When she was alone, you'd always try to get closer to her. You've been trying to talk to her ever since you found out that she was the one who lead the attack against the cyclops that almost killed you. Also it wouldn't hurt to befriend someone other than your siblings. It started with her trying her best to shake you off but you never seemed to get the hint.

You were trailing after your siblings like usual when Clarisse and two of her half siblings approached your group. "Sunshine! With me, I said." She called out. You pointed to yourself to make sure you weren't assuming things. "Yes, you."

She and her siblings turned around and started walking towards the girls' bathroom expecting you to follow. You stood there for a bit before you rushed to catch up to them.

When you got the bathroom, all of you were in a standstill. You didn't dare to make a move, their imposing figures standing taller than you, making you more intimidated. Eventually, you broke the silence, "did I do something wrong?"

"Leave us." Clarisse told her siblings.

After they left, Clarisse started to close the gap between you until you were merely inches apart. "Why do you keep following me?" She asked in an irritated tone.

"I– I just wanted to thank you for saving me. I heard you were the one who lead the attack against the cyclops that chased me. Also I was wondering if we could be friends?" You internally cursed yourself when you stuttered.

Her heated gaze lifted slowly to a more relaxed one and she stepped away to give you some space. It seemed like she wasn't expecting you to answer like that. "Alright. You seem worth the trouble."

After that, you seemed to never leave her side. At that point, everyone always assumed you were near when she was around. Trailing after her like an excited puppy. After a while, she'd let you touch her, whether it was just brisk skin contact or you grabbing her arm whenever you were excited, surprising everyone.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

You showed an interest in the bow and arrow after you saw some campers practice shooting when you and your siblings were passing by. You wanted to learn but you were too shy to ask anyone to teach you.

That was until one day, after breakfast, you approached Clarisse at her table. You didn't know anyone else that well you could ask so, you decided that Clarisse would be the best person, since your siblings didn't show any interest in the sports.

You waited until she wasn't talking since you knew interrupting a conversation was rude. You called her name. "Clarisse?" The conversation quieted and everyone's attention was suddenly on you. You felt embarrassed since you weren't used to the attention. "Yes, sunshine?" Clarisse faced you.

Swallowing your saliva, you tried to find your voice. "I wanted to ask if you could teach me how to use a bow and arrow?" You avoided her gaze since you felt your face started to heat up. Clarisse was not expecting you to ask her that. Usually new comers would ask Luke or anyone other than her, but you did.

"Sure. Meet me at the shooting range." Her and her siblings stood up from their table and walked towards the fire to burn their offerings. "Thank you!" With that, you ran back to your siblings trying to suppress a squeal. Truthfully, you sort of had a crush on Clarisse for a while now. Your siblings looked at you like you grew three heads when you told them. Although they still supported you anyway.

You didn't know if it was the way she always seemed soft towards you compared to anyone else, or when she would have that look of pride whenever she won at something, or maybe it was the fact that you'd always meet her eyes across any crowd. But one thing was a fact, and that was you being totally whipped for Ares's daughter.

With Clarisse, she had to roll her eyes at the way her siblings would often tease her about you. Everytime you and her would cross paths (where you'd always wave at her with that stupid smile that made her heart melt) her siblings would nudge her with knowing stares and smirks or make comments like "hey Clarisse, isn't that your girlfriend?" or the occasional "when are you gonna ask her out?" which she'd just huff at.

Later that day, you and Clarisse would spend the rest of the day in the shooting range where she taught you the proper stance and how to aim properly. She had to admit, you were a fast learner. You were doing fine on your own, she only jumped in to occasionally give you tips. Sometimes people would stare curiously at you two, however you were oblivious since you were focused on hitting the target and Clarisse would glare at them to which they'd leave you two alone.

By dinner, you managed to hit the bullseye. "I did it! Clarisse, did you see that?!" You were jumping from excitement. Clarisse was subtly smiling with pride. "Yep. You did it, sunshine." You ended up hugging her out of excitement and it's seems neither of you even realize what you did until you did and quickly pulled away.

You cleared your throat, "sorry." and looked down in embarrassment. Clarisse was still processing what happened as she just stood there. You two just stood there in awkward silence. "Uhm... It's getting late. Thank you for teaching me today." You gathered your courage and eventually placed a quick peck on her cheek. You ran away after that.

Meanwhile, Clarisse touched her cheek where you just kissed her. Your perfume still lingering in the air and a barely noticeable kiss mark on her cheek was present.

"You're gonna kill me someday, sunshine." She smiled to herself.

[soobnny]

ten things yang jeongin says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, a bit of angst

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | JEONGIN

one. i was thinking about you earlier. nothing in particular, just—who you are. and it made me wish i’d known you sooner. everything about my life right now is infinitely better now that you’re in it.

two. i’d give anything to stop time every moment that i’m with you.

three. i found my old diary when i went home today. i know, yes, i was an angsty teenage boy with a diary. i quickly went through it just to see what i wrote. ah, if you saw it, you’d definitely laugh. but… one entry caught my eye. it was from a few years ago and it was at a point of my life when i thought nobody could ever love me. not even in a romantic sense, just generally and i was praying to anyone who would listen that i’d find someone who’d understand. i’m glad i held on and didn’t break because a year later, i met you. funny how things turn out, right? i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. i just, i guess i just wanted to thank you for coming into my life. you’re the kind of person i always hoped i’d find.

four. i know i’m not the best at understanding emotions, but i feel them very deeply with you. please give me time. i promise i’ll get to know my feelings better.

five. seungmin told me earlier how i don’t say ‘i love you’ a lot. he’s right, but it’s only because i don’t want my expressions of love to be light. that’s why i don’t say it often because i don’t want it to be thrown around like that. i want to say it in important moments. but i find that i want to tell you that every day. i think it’s because every moment with you is important to me. so, please don’t think my words are empty when i say them too much. i promise it’s never light when i tell you i love you. i mean it. i mean it so much that sometimes it scares me.

six. do you know the exact moment i knew i was in love with you? i can still remember it clearly. it wasn’t anything crazy, in fact it was just an ordinary day. you were over at my dorm and we had been laughing at this romcom that just came out, and then i felt it. i felt it when i had looked at you, how i wouldn't mind doing this forever. i hope i can love you for the rest of my life.

seven. i always think back fondly of college because of you. it would've been hell if it wasn't with you.

eight. i was thinking earlier, about how fleeting life really is. i don't—i don't even know what triggered me to think about it. how someone could be alive one minute and then gone the next. i don't like that... i don't like how abrupt endings always are. i don't want any moment with you to be the last, god, i can't even bear the thought of losing you. ah, fuck, i'm crying. fuck, sorry. i just, please don't leave me. please don't let it happen to you. i know you have no control over it, but please, please, please. please.

nine. cheer up, darling. i know things don't look too good right now, but what if things just get better from now on? i promise that your efforts at healing are adding up, so just hold onto me for now. you will always have me to hold on to.

ten. you are the best thing that's ever been mine.

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Seven]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I have finally gotten this update up for y'all! It's been written and sitting waiting for over a month, but now that I'm not trying to write holiday fics (though I might still write that Owen Sleater one), it's back to business as usual! Feedback is always appreciated!

Fidgeting with the beer bottle between his fingers, Matt wasn't paying much attention to the room around him. Which said a lot about his current focus considering how loud Josie’s bar was this evening with the crowd that had filled the space tonight. He also wasn't paying any attention to the conversation Foggy and Karen had struck up a while ago at their table about a client they'd met with earlier today. Because despite the fact that Matt was currently sitting with the pair of them drinking back his beer, his attention was entirely elsewhere this evening. On you a couple of blocks away in your apartment.

Admittedly there wasn’t very much that he could pick up on at this distance where he sat at Josie’s, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to hear what he could–even if he knew he shouldn't be invading your privacy like this. It was already bad enough he always stopped by at the beginning and end of his patrols, always wanting to make sure things were alright. Though deep down he knew he kept doing it because he was desperate to feel connected to the pair of you somehow. He just couldn't seem to stay away despite that being what you seemed to want him to do. 

His eyes narrowed in concentration behind the lenses of his glasses. It sounded like you were cleaning up whatever dinner you'd made in your kitchen, which made sense considering the hour. You usually ate around this time after work. As he listened to the faint sounds of dishes clinking together, he wondered what you’d made to eat tonight. You'd been craving pesto pasta like crazy but constantly kept forgetting to add the items to your grocery list. Something Matt only knew because of his new habit of lingering on your rooftop as Daredevil, not because you'd actually spoken to him recently and told him yourself. For which he kept chastising himself about doing, except he couldn't seem to stop eavesdropping. 

Like right now.

Despite you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with him for the time being, he had tried calling you repeatedly in the hopes of finding a vastly healthier and less invasive way to stay connected with you, but you'd only answered once and it was to ask him to stop calling. You told him when you were ready to talk that you'd reach out to him. Which meant he hadn't tried to show up at your apartment as Matt Murdock, trying to respect your wishes. But that ultimately put him in a difficult position, because not communicating with you meant he couldn't prove himself to you–couldn’t prove how sorry he was for what he’d done. He'd been back and forth on that for the past two days, constantly feeling like the clock was ticking on him finding some way back into your life to show you that you and that baby were what he wanted.

An abrupt, loud snapping noise sounded directly in front of Matt’s face and he jumped in his chair, blinking rapidly a few times behind his glasses. The noise instantly had broken his concentration from his thoughts and your apartment, something that had taken him quite a few minutes to lock in on in the first place considering the distance.

“Matt, buddy, you in there?” Foggy asked.

Matt cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face at the sound of his friend's voice. Gradually and begrudgingly his attention and senses returned to the bar around himself.

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied. “Was just zoning out, I guess.”

“Thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy solemnly asked.

“Kind of hard not to,” he muttered.

He felt Karen’s hand land gently on his shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. He glanced in her direction, sending the tense smile her way. Despite how much he'd screwed things up with you, and how much Foggy and Karen cared about you, they'd still been incredibly supportive of him. They'd even been understanding of his initial angry outburst at the office for which Matt had guiltily apologized for numerous times by now.

"She's doing alright," Karen assured him. "Though I'm guessing you already know that."

Matt ducked his head, awkwardly running a hand across his mouth as he felt the guilt burn within him. There was no point in denying it. You had to have already figured it out yourself when he'd left that stuffed narwhal at your apartment after you'd gone back to sleep the other night. It wasn't as if he'd expected that to make you feel any differently about him, but he hoped you knew that he was still here. Still around. Still thinking about the both of you. Still wanting the both of you. 

"Yeah, I stop there at night," Matt admitted awkwardly. "Not for long," he lied, "just enough to know things are alright. That she doesn't need anything. And to uh…hear the heartbeat."

Truthfully it had become his new favorite sound, even more than the beat of your own familiar heart. It was muffled but strong, faster than the usual heartbeats he heard all day long. 

"Have you tried just showing up?" Foggy asked curiously. "You know, the way people usually do, not the way you usually do? Just to see what would happen?"

Matt shrugged, shifting in his chair. "I've thought about it," he answered. "I'm just always torn between respecting her boundaries and wanting to show her that I'm still here for her. That I want to be. But I'm always afraid if–” he paused, wincing as the thought crossed his mind. “I'm afraid if I do, it'll only upset her more. Push her away from me even further.”

Karen hummed in thought beside Matt. The sound caught his attention, his head tilting a bit to the side towards her. The noise almost sounded like one of disagreement. 

“What?” Matt asked. 

“I think,” Karen began carefully, “that she's actually a bit conflicted.”

Matt's attention focused entirely on Karen now as he straightened in his chair. His brows rose up curiously onto his forehead, eager for her to elaborate. 

“Conflicted?” he asked curiously. “Conflicted how? About what? Me?”

“Yes,” Karen answered with a faint nod. “I mean she obviously still loves you, Matt. That doesn't just disappear overnight. Ideally I think she'd want you to be raising the baby with her from the way she talks. Going through all of this with her. But she's still hurt. And she's scared. And she, well, obviously still doesn't believe her and the baby would be a priority to you.”

Matt twisted in his seat, fully facing Karen. “So what're you saying?” he pressed.

He heard the way the air shifted as Karen shrugged beside him. Her lip suddenly caught between her teeth where she lightly chewed it for a moment. The pause was killing Matt, his hand tightening around the neck of his beer bottle. 

“I'm saying I think you should find an excuse and show up at her place,” Karen eventually replied. She held up a finger as she quickly amended, “As Matt, not you-know-who. Don't push her boundaries, just show up long enough to show her you're still here, like you’ve been wanting to do. That you're not giving up. I think she needs that more than she's letting on to you. Maybe…find some sort of way to show her you're trying to be a supportive future father and partner.”

“Okay,” Matt mused, running a frustrated hand through his hair and mussing it as his thoughts began to race. “Okay,” he repeated. “So don't show up with apology flowers. Noted.”

“No, but maybe bring her something else that might help her,” Karen suggested lightly. “Something that might be useful during her pregnancy. To show her you're serious about things with her and the baby.”

“Oh!” Foggy exclaimed, excitedly slapping a hand to the table. “Like an excuse to just show up and see her because you're dropping something off!”

Matt sighed deeply, swiveling back around in his seat. He leant his elbows onto the uneven wooden table as he began to rub his palms together in thought. What could he possibly bring you that might be useful for your pregnancy? Something you might actually be grateful for and need? That wouldn't make you curse him from daring to darken your apartment door?

This was something he'd have to give some thought to tonight. 

Willing your mind to quiet, you lay on your side beneath the sheets of your bed which you'd tugged up to your chin. It was a little after one in the afternoon and you'd been hoping to take a brief nap after lunch, something you couldn't do during the weekdays because of work. Your body usually wanted to give up once this time of day hit, probably partly because of pregnancy fatigue but also because you hadn't been sleeping well lately. 

It was damn near impossible to get comfortable when you laid down even though your stomach wasn't quite that large yet. But the hormones in your body responsible for relaxing your muscles and ligaments during pregnancy were also responsible for the fact that sleeping on your side killed your hips and knees far more than side sleeping ever had in the past. You didn't just wake up to pee or possibly vomit now, sometimes you just ached horribly and couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. Which often led to your mind racing and keeping you awake for part of the night. 

Truth be told though, everything on your body hurt lately. You often had headaches–another perk of early pregnancy–along with constant back and hip pain. Your breasts were still quite sensitive and tender, too. The one bright spot through it all this week had been an appointment you had coming up with your obstetrician. The one where you could get your blood drawn and in another week or so, you'd know whether your little devil would be a boy or a girl. It had been on your mind all week, your excitement barely contained and adding to your inability to sleep. 

Trying to push the thought of the baby's sex from your mind, you squeezed your eyes a bit tighter shut. The light from the sunny afternoon was still slipping in past your blinds, making your room almost too bright. The sounds of the city traffic bustling below your apartment weren't helping right now, either. 

But it was an unexpected knock at your apartment door that had your eyes inevitably flying back open. 

Raising your head from the pillow hesitantly, you blinked hard a few times. You hadn't been expecting anyone to stop by today. Brows knitted together, you pushed the sheets off of yourself and ran a hand over your eyes. Moving slowly along the bed, you gradually pushed yourself upright and set your feet on the floor, noticeably moving slower than if you hadn't been almost eleven weeks pregnant. 

Rising to your feet, you sluggishly made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall. Stopping in front of your door, you undid the locks before turning the handle and pulling it open. The sight of Matt standing before you in one of his fitted tee-shirts with an awkward smile on his face took you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt your own pulse increase at the unexpected appearance of him. Gaze dropping down, you saw he was carrying an almost comically large shopping bag in his left hand.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” you asked, one hand gripping the door tighter. “I thought I–I asked you to give me space for now?”

“Yes, you did,” he replied awkwardly, that smile on his face growing more nervous. “But I…I really don't want to stay away because I was still hoping you could give me a chance. To prove how sorry I am.”

Shoulders dropping at his words, you lightly blew out a breath. “Matt–”

“Hear me out, please,” he begged, cutting you off.

An earnest look crossed his face as his dark brows drew together above his glasses. Lips pressing together, you released the door from your grip and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Fine, talk,” you demanded.

“Look, I–I know you want me to stay away,” he began in a rush, as if he was afraid that you wouldn't give him enough time to explain himself before you slammed the door in his face. “And I want to respect that, I do. But I can't walk away from the both of you. I can't . I won't abandon my child and I won't abandon you. I want to prove how sorry I am to you, sweetheart. I want to prove that you can depend on me, that I want this. Because I do.”

“Matt, I already told you that I'd let you have a relationship with your child,” you reminded him. “I'm not telling you to abandon them.”

He shook his head quickly, his hand readjusting on the plastic bag he was holding. It crinkled loudly in his grip and briefly caught your eye again, making you wonder what the hell was in the bag. But when he spoke again, your attention returned to his face.

“You might not see it that way,” Matt countered, still shaking his head, “but to me it's no different. And I won't walk away from you or my own child.” His face grew more solemn as he added softly, “You know me, sweetheart. You know how I grew up, how it affected me. All I'm asking is that you just…just give me a chance to make amends. I made a massive mistake and I hurt you. I was an asshole and I want to fix things. So just…can you at least consider giving me that chance? Please?”

Inhaling a deep breath, your eyes scanned over his anxious, pleading face. Your heart had dropped in your chest the second he'd mentioned his past. Because of course you knew how Matt had felt abandoned by what his father had done, willingly going and getting himself killed when he won that fight instead of losing it which ultimately left Matt alone in the world. You also knew how he'd formed a bond with Stick, his mentor who'd abandoned him the moment Matt displayed his care for the man. You also knew about his toxic relationship–the only other he'd ever had–where his ex had abandoned him because he wouldn't kill his father's murderer. And then of course, you knew how much pain he'd felt when he learned that his mother had been a nun at the orphanage he grew up in, making him feel unwanted because he'd only accidentally overheard the truth as a grown man years later.

Matt Murdock struggled with feeling unloved and unwanted because of his abandonment issues from almost every important figure in his life. And now he was afraid he'd be condemning this child to a similar trauma. The thought of that caused your heart to twist tight in your chest. 

“I'll think about it,” you answered quietly. 

“Thank you,” Matt replied in relief, his expression visibly relaxing.

Your eyes dropped back down to the large bag in his hand, your head tilting to the side as you curiously studied it. Matt let out a nervous huff of a laugh as he shifted on his feet. He extended the bag out towards you and your brows jumped up onto your forehead. 

“I uh, I brought you something,” Matt said, his tone returning awkward. 

For a moment you just stared at the bag in his outstretched hand, unsure what to make of him bringing you anything right now. Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, grasping onto the handles of the bag. Though you let out a surprised gasp when Matt let go and the weight of its contents startled you, almost causing you to drop it entirely. Your other hand darted out, grabbing onto the bag and catching it before it could slip from your grasp. Drawing it towards yourself, you peered inside. 

“It's a pregnancy pillow and a weighted blanket,” Matt explained, running his now free hand across the back of his neck. “I know you have had trouble sleeping lately and I thought they'd help. The weighted blanket should help relax you and the–the pregnancy pillow should help with body pain and the weight of your belly when you're farther along. I actually spent a while researching them. Who knew there were so many shapes?” He chuckled nervously, his hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured this one would work the best for how you sleep–or, how I remember you always sleeping, at least.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared back at Matt, the heavy bag still held in your hands. While the gift was thoughtful and sweet, there was only one explanation as to why he'd brought these particular items which were meant to help you sleep, especially when you'd had a hard time doing exactly that lately.

“Have you been spying on me again, Matt?” you questioned in disbelief.

He hung his head immediately, his shoulders dropping at the accusation. You already knew the answer before he even said a word and your mouth fell open wider.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't,” he apologized shamefully. “I know I shouldn't. But I mainly just check in first thing when I go out at night and–and then once more before I go home. To make sure you're safe and alright because I worry. And I–” he broke off, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “I like to listen to the baby's heartbeat,” he confessed quietly.

Something about the way he'd admitted that last bit had disarmed you. That wasn't what you expected him to say and you momentarily felt your heart soften to him. But your upset about him eavesdropping on you soon washed back over you again, your hands curling tight around the bag.

“I don't like that, Matt,” you warned him. “That makes me uncomfortable knowing my ex is listening in to whatever I'm doing in here and I don't know about it.”

Matt nodded solemnly in response. “I understand, I do. I'll try my best to refrain, but if something brings me nearby at night I…admittedly have a hard time not picking up on things.” He shrugged faintly, his covered gaze still downcast. “I'm just tuned into you and it's sort of a habit by now after how much time we've spent together.”

An awkward silence settled over the both of you at his explanation, the pair of you standing there wordlessly. You weren't about to invite Matt inside–especially not after just learning that –but you could also tell he clearly didn't want to go, either. Though after a moment he shifted his weight between his feet before he glanced up in your direction once again. His lips were twisted downwards at the corners, guilt and sadness barely hidden on his face. You fought to ignore the urge to draw him into a hug at the sight.

“I'll let you go, I can tell my visit isn't exactly what you want, but can you think about what I asked?” he questioned. “About giving me a chance to prove myself?”

Blowing out a breath, you slowly nodded. “I'll think about it,” you told him softly, “but I'm not making any promises, Matt.”

He shot you a tense smile, nodding his head once as he took a step back into the apartment building hallway. Something tugged at your heart knowing he was leaving, but you quickly tried to ignore that feeling, too.

“Hope those help,” he murmured, briefly gesturing to the bag.

Without another word, Matt turned and made his way down the hallway and back towards the elevator at the far end, his cane tapping lightly along the floor. You watched his retreating form for a moment before you forced your eyes away. You didn't know quite what to make of his surprise visit. 

Closing the door of your apartment, you locked it again before dragging the heavy bag back to your bedroom. You were still tired and had every intention of attempting that nap despite the unexpected interruption, and admittedly you were curious about the items Matt had brought you. Would they actually help you fall asleep?

It was a few minutes before you'd managed to unpackage the incredibly soft, gray weighted blanket and spread it over your bed. You'd put the pregnancy pillow up on the bed underneath the blanket afterwards before you'd climbed up onto the mattress and slipped beneath the blanket. Immediately you wrapped your legs around the pillow and snuggled up to it, feeling the pain in your hips instantly lessen in this position. You sighed in relief, letting your eyelids gently drop as you felt the weight of the blanket relaxing you, just as Matt had claimed it would. 

With a soft, contented hum, you nuzzled into your pillow and felt that wave of exhaustion begin to overtake you. But as you lay there waiting for sleep, you couldn't help but imagine it was the weight of Matt's arms wrapped around you, comfortably sinking you further into the mattress. And if you kept your eyes closed and tried hard enough, you could imagine it was Matt's thick thigh that your legs were wrapped around, wedged between yours just like you'd slept many nights in the past with him. 

Which was how you finally found yourself drifting comfortably to sleep–imagining you were safe in Matt’s arms, the place you so desperately missed being. 

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[Some tags aren't working, I never fully know why. If I've misspelled yours, please feel free to let me know! Otherwise it's just tumblr being a pain and not tagging for unknown reasons because this always happens. I'm sorry!]