#want to draw this but effort. maybe later

[thexmistress]

The Dilemma

Sukuna x Reader

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮Warnings:: Angst of course, slight mention of sex, manipulation, toxic relationship, spineless reader, etc etc :p 🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

That feeling you get when you try your hardest to reach out but your efforts go in vain. That feeling you get that rises up from the bottom of your stomach….. traveling up your chest… then to your heart where it festers…. The pain is so unbearable but for some reason you find comfort in it…. It gives you reassurance that you still have some fight in you… still have hope that you can keep the remnants of your relationship from deteriorating. You started off strong at first, you truly did, but now it just feels like you’re in the middle of ocean trying to keep afloat on a wooden plank. You felt useless and overwhelmed.

Looking down at your phone you see that all 6 of your messages were read by Sukuna earlier this morning. Your last message being a ‘Good Morning ❤️’ accompanied by a ‘Read 7:34am’. You knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. You should’ve known this was coming and prevented it but you kept opening your mouth and kept fucking things up. Chuckling to yourself as you put your phone down and continued to paint on your canvas but that feeling again was starting to creep up to your chest, and before you knew it, your eyes began to water while you struggle to keep your hand straight. Who knew drawing a line could be so hard? You try to focus on the painting but your mind keeps going back to the last conversation you guys had 2 days ago.

🝮🝮🝮🝮

“I just think it’s weird how she’s always calling you….. like I understand you guys are friends but really baby? It’s literally 12am… I think that’s a bit much…” you peeped at the clock on the nightstand and noted the time was actually ‘12:40am’. Your voice that once held passion and certainty came out timid, scared that if you said something wrong it would upset him, but even then your efforts go in vain as you see your lover roll his eyes at you and sigh heavily as he began to rub his face with hands exasperatedly.

It’s that feeling again. You feel it bubbling in your stomach as you instantly regret what you just said but it was already too late the moment he opened his mouth and began to invalidate how you feel like usual. It was always the usual to you so much to the point where you started to second guess your own feelings. Your gaze that was on the floor flickered back up to him catching a quick glance at his eyes but the moment you seen the annoyance that flooded his eyes you quickly look away not being able to handle the way it made that feeling in your stomach skyrocket to your chest. “Are you really starting this bullshit again? Really Y/N?”

His questioning lingered in the air for a few seconds until he felt even more annoyed by your silence. “Well you brought it up right? Why you not saying anything? Look at me when I’m talking to you like a normal fucking adult!” The tone of his voice made you snap your eyes up, holding back tears but the stinging feeling it was causing in your eyes wasn’t helping. “Why are you crying? Why-“, stopping mid sentence he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and sighed, “Listen. I’m not going to explain this again. Mei is just a friend. I don’t see you making this a big deal when Yuji or one of the bros call me around this time. Mei is a bro. A. Friend.”

🝮🝮🝮🝮

That’s right. Just a friend. Okay maybe you are toxic….. you make a mental note to not bring that up again but you’re starting to feel it. Starting to feel tired of everything. The no text backs unless he feels like it, how he’s so quiet on the phone and you’re always carrying the conversation, the ‘parallel play’ that you’ve become accustomed to and the fact you didn’t even know it was a thing until you were on Reddit asking strangers were you wrong for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend alone instead of always sharing him with his bros. You will always remember that day but only because of how much his words shattered you.

🝮🝮🝮🝮

“Bro what the fuck! Kill him!” Sukuna was yelling at his monitor fully engaged in the game with his headset on both ears but the volume was still loud that you can hear the giggles of his friends through them. It was the typical people in the PlayStation party; Satoru, Yuji, Suguru, and Utahime. You peeked at him but returned your attention back to your kdrama you were watching on your phone (had to get romance from somewhere right?). You couldn’t help but to start to feel annoyed and a bit angry at the fact that you were supposed to be over his house to spend time with him since he was off from work today. You usually wouldn’t mind this but lately that’s all you guys have been doing and it’s starting to bother you. Come over his house, sit on his bed while he plays the game then fuck.. How Romantic.

Before you went home you spoke about how you felt and how it feels like you were getting the bare minimum since you were the main one who would suggest hanging out or making plans, the main one calling first, the main one trying to make conversation because if you don’t speak he’s more than likely not going to start a conversation…. It’s like you’re just here. You were nervous and felt like you just committed blasphemy for even letting that slip out your lips and apparently he thought the same to because he gave you a look as if you just stabbed him in the chest and you can’t really remember all the things he said but what will forever stick to you was when he said,

“why are you measuring my love with ‘effort’? If you love me and I do give you the bare minimum that should be enough.”

🝮🝮🝮🝮

You didn’t even noticed you stopped painting until you started to sniff realizing that you were crying. You put down your paintbrush and wiped your tears and nose as you picked up your phone to see no notifications from Sukuna as expected but you couldn’t help but to feel a little hope that he would text you. It’s been 2 days since you’ve heard from him and you’re trying really hard not to come off as clingy so you’ve been sticking to texting him and not holding it against him because like he always says he’s a bad texter.

You go on instagram to see that he posted yet another story and you can’t help but to start another turmoil within yourself…..

‘Am I truly asking for too much?’

‘Am I too invested?’

‘Is it too much to ask for a clingy, emotional available boyfriend?’

You sighed as took a picture of the almost finished portrait of Sukuna and posted it on your instagram story before sending it him with a text that follows ‘Almost done! 😊’. You were about to put your phone down until you felt a vibration causing you to look back down at the screen to see him reply ‘❤️’. Suddenly you felt lighter and that nagging feeling went away causing you to feel nothing but relief.

See, he still loves me.

[opheliabf]

doctor: good news mr kelly, your top surgery was successful

charlie: where's dennis?

doctor: who do you think took your tits?

[dragondawdles]

back at it at krispy kreme

[gunstellations]

to love and be loved

[red-dyed-sarumane]

FASHION QUESTION!!! if u could design an outfit for urself rn. maybe something u always wanted to wear but u havnt seen it before or mybe just a cool design on some clothes....how would u describe it

i really like amavel's girly/doll style outfits i wish i could get that but like pride flag colors and turtles like this. im not describing this sorry im just drawing it out. i dont have any of the bracelet ring chain accessories bc theyre always sold out when i find them but i think theyre neat i want one. idk if i want tulle over the skirt or lace at the bottom mayeb even both i didnt draw either but the thoughts there too.

that said i already own the two most euphoria inducing outfits ive seen and thats these. ive given up thinking of my own designs bc i will never top these. i dont even care these are MY outfits now. the embroidery really makes them top notch to me

[shokupanda]

WOOHOOO THE STUPID ASS UNI STUFF IS OVER (FOR NOW)

i can finally open tumblr and draw and whatnot again aaaaaaaa orz

actually on second thought my first order of business is going snork mimimi. im so eepy. i havent opened twitter or tumblr in a while jsjsjdj ill do that after sleeping

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fanart of this written tayston scene with the prompt “why me?” 💜💖💙

[justblades]

⌕ CRAVINGS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : gepard landau x afab! reader WC : 1.5k

⟢ WARNINGS : MDNI. fluff, breeding, impregnation, pussy deprived! gepard, cervix kissing.

Gepard Landau is a stronghold of resolve and kept promises; the one who truly fits the theme of what a captain is made up of. Should you hear his name spilling from the silvermane guards' lips, they were all praises and musings, hoping that their captain would acknowledge their efforts and promote their position.

To be a resolute person, showing no signs, leaving no traces of weaknesses behind for they can be used by your foe when time permits; it was indubitable when he seeks for his solace, a place he can rest and let his guard down once in a while. To let his sharp, firm edges soften— admittingly wanting to be caressed with intimacy and care no one could give him but his lover.

Even though you could pick up how his work had taken a toll on him from the endless fragmentum monsters emerging from the depths of the shadows, he still puts up a façade of being strong, facing everything head on. As much as you wanted him to drop it and just bask in the feeling of being held, Gepard wasn't that type of man. Everything he says, he sees through.

Fortunately, the Belobog's crisis wraps itself up at last. With the emergence of overworld and the underworld, he'd been cut some slack. No need for heightened patrols since the curfew was abolished, for once, he could finally rest in your arms. His luscious, smoked blonde hair falls over right below your ear, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"I missed holding you like this." He says, voice laced with a sweet tone to it, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You cup his hot pink tinted cheeks and lift his face to level with yours, your eyes agleam of love and passion, you press a chaste kiss on his icy skin.

Gepard draws you a gaze, one that emits confusion. "Let loose for a while." You say and slowly glide your hands from his face down to his stomach. His breath suddenly hitches the lower your touch traveled, you whisper to his ear meticulously, "It's been so long. You sure you don't miss it?"

A sly smirk creeps on your face meanwhile the blonde male does his best attempt to hide it. Although his growing bulge that came contact with your thighs gave it away. His rover blue hues only averted away from your figure, embarrassment gushing through his system. All he needs is just a little teasing, and then, the cogs of his body's lust will soon start moving.

You press your lips onto his in lento, making sure he could feel the warmth of your breath tickling his skin, and your fingers slightly playing with his clothed erection. A soft mewl comes out of your mouth and there he felt a little too defeated, for he lost from battling his temptation and his tongue enters your mouth, twirling with yours in satisfaction.

His soft, tender side flips 180 degrees, his actions now radiate hunger and fervor. Gepard's hands land on yours, but you were only taken aback when he makes you stroke his crotch more, in a pace you knew very well he was fond of. The captain moans into your mouth, a guttural one at that.

"Since you're offering nicely, I'm just accepting generously." He says and as if the time came to a standstill, your clothes were ripped apart with Gepard's brute force alone. He uses his teeth to rid himself of the pearly white gloves he sported, carelessly throwing it away somewhere it wouldn't bother you. Your back suddenly meets with the soft, cushioned sofa, breathing becoming ragged.

One thing's for sure, you're loving how everything is unfolding. Surely the yearning for some intimacy also left him with a pent up sexual frustration, it was no wonder he suddenly bursted with a deep desire to conquer, to ruin, and to prey on. His usual navy irises transition into darker shades, unable to control himself any longer.

"No foreplay for now. Maybe later for round two—" He says as he sweeps your undergarment to the side, eyeing carefully your throbbing entrance with his watchful eyes. "Doesn't look like you need it either when you're already this sopping wet." Gepard pumps two digits into your hole, his fingers already drenched with your love juices.

You feel like your tongue betrayed you for you were at a loss for words in the heat of the moment. But nonetheless, you brace yourself from the incoming sensation. The crown of his dick was hot, rubbing against your slit naughtily at a painfully slow pace.

It has been so long hence why you were this wet already— imagine being that desperate for your lover's touches that snuggling with him makes you think of the dirtiest things. But with how the tables have turned, the man atop you is now whose minds are filled with corrupted, lewd thoughts. Fantasies in line waiting to come true now that you're here with him.

And as he bucks his hips, his rock hard cock fills you to the brim. Your walls contract from the abrupt intrusion while you could only hold onto his biceps for support. His arms propped both on your sides, the soft glow of the lights cast over to Gepard's half naked body— tracing his muscles flexing in every thrusts that he does, as well as how his golden locks tumble on his face along with his rhythm.

Your walls cling onto his dick, remembering his shape whenever he prods through. You wince from how girthy it was and as anticipated, he's purposely being slow today. His rams were gradual wherein you could feel his aching prominent veins rub on your insides. "Faster, Gepard."

He only hums in question - sarcastically. It was then a dilatory realization sinks in your mind, he wants you to plead for him. As shocking as it is, you never got to experience Gepard being like this for the record. It only reinforces the thought that he was indeed sexually frustrated. Sex encounters with him are always sweet, wholesome and carefree. If you had to describe it with one word, it'd be vanilla.

But Gepard Landau is being the complete opposite, however, he still has many sides of him to discover. You choose to indulge him more so you'd experience this kind of sex more often. Vanilla isn't bad, but changing once in a while is even better.

"Faster . . Gepard, please." Your breathy voice could only make out weak words. Meanwhile down there, it's muffled from the squelching noises reverberating inside the four beige painted walls. The male leans lower to you and crashes his lips once again, never getting tired of your warm, sticky liquids meshing with his.

With one last sluggish thrust, he hastily pounces into your fluttering hole, almost as if it was at 20 machs speed, not to mention he's digging deep. Your eyes widen into two full moons from the feeling, your cervix kissing his very dick's small slit. A moan bubbles from his throat, "You're so warm . . you're sucking me in . ." He muses and breaks the lascivious kiss.

Eyes heavy lidded with a piercing lustful gaze that bore straight through your soul, he builds momentum and doesn't let himself be swayed. He's here to accept your kindhearted offer and Gepard only makes the best of it. He huffs as he pounds faster, picking up the speed of his pistoning thrusts.

Meanwhile you were there, already a mess from how Gepard's touches turn you into a melting putty. In contrast to the city outskirts being traced with icy temperatures, your bodies were in heat - literally. The captain's eyes never once left your face, lips a little parted to make way to stabilize his breathing.

In sync, two of you sense that particular feeling, a satisfaction of release wherein you both tried so hardest to catch on. Bucking your hips along with your lover's, the sex fills your minds with sexual gratification. Your body trembles from the immense ecstasy, and suddenly, Gepard's mind starts to drift to ecstasy.

The way your walls coil around his dick, the way you begged for him for the both of your contentment; a thought crosses his mind. From that moment, he could envision a family, you holding something swaddled while your eyes twinkled of love and wonder. As if he was in another dimension, he treads closer to your figure. It was then he realizes it was his and your offspring, the baby uttering noises with a toothless, innocent smile. You'd make a great mother undeniably, Gepard thought, thus leading to his breakthrough.

"Let's . . have a family." He coos in between the strings of mewls escaping his sultry, sloppy lips. You were caught off guard, even though you were hoping for a long time he'd say that, you didn't think today would be the the day. With a snicker, you reassure his ideals. "Today seems like the perfect day." With one last open mouthed kiss, the blonde head shoots his seeds deep into your walls - with intentions of not just solely quenching his lascivious desires, but also having another life form birthed into this world.

His cum spills into your slit right until Gepard pulls out from your cunt. He buried so much in deep that you were certain he'd knock you up with one round alone, but your lover didn't share the same sentiment. "Let's do it thrice today, just to make sure."

my masterlist !

[rileyslibrary]

may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc

doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰

thankyouu🥺✨

I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫

———————————————————————

Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.

His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.

The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.

The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.

While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.

Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.

You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.

You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.

Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”

“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”

His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.

“Why the glitter?” he asks.

“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.

“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.

You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.

“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.

“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”

“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”

He lets out a sarcastic scoff.

“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.

He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.

You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”

He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.

They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.

You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.

He is livid.

“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.

“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”

“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”

“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”

“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”

Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.

Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.

“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.

“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.

You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”

“And I had only one sheet of paper.”

“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.

“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”

They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.

“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”

“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.

“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”

———————————————————————

A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Two-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day, during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: very angst. lots of emotions going on here. reader proves herself to the syltherin boys. honestly just a really playful, fun, light chapter.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the wake of Mattheo's cutting words, three days had passed--three seemingly endless days since he had slammed the door shut on your attempts to help him, his declaration of your connection being nothing more than a futile endeavour, one destined for ruin once the end of the school year rolled around still ringing in your ears like a haunting melody.

The echo of his harsh words reverberated within your mind, an incessant hologram with no escape, seeping into your thoughts during sleepless nights, intruding upon your attempts to focus on anything else. You weren't sure why those words had cut so fucking deep, because in the moment you'd hardly even flinched, but you couldn't ignore the lingering pain they caused.

And during those agonizing days, an uncomfortable tension settled between the two of you, hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. You took the hint, biting back the words that threatened to spill, choosing silence over confrontation. You trailed after him like a shadow in between classes, keenly aware that any attempt at conversation would only ignite another explosive clash, a battle neither of you felt prepared to wage again so soon.

The memory of your last argument lingered, its toxicity staining the air between you, leaving wounds too deep to heal without acknowledgment and remorse; two things neither of you seemed ready to give, quite yet.

But what really made matters worse, was that both of you were unyielding in your convictions--both of you shamelessly stubborn and unapologetic, neither of you feeling as though you were in the wrong. Mattheo barricaded himself behind walls, lashing out as if you were the enemy, despite your unwavering efforts to assist him--which, in turn, resulted in your pushiness. Your refusal to tolerate his aggression without challenge, became your armor, your way of standing your ground.

Maybe you had been too forceful, perhaps too harsh, but in your eyes, it was a response to the aggression he hurled your way. You couldn't simply let his hostility go unchecked; it was against your nature. And so, the standoff continued, a battle of wills and tempers, leaving both of you entrenched in your own convictions, neither of you willing to admit fault.

But today, you decided you weren't going to hide back anymore. You couldn't allow your stubbornness to completely destroy whatever progress you had made with Mattheo thus far. This was about more than just your pitiful feelings, or whatever emotions you had tied into the situation with that complicated boy. This was about being there for him, wether he wants you to be or not. Showing compassion and patience.

And so, summing newfound determination, you shook off the weight of your own melancholy and sought him out after dinner. Today, he and his group of friends had chosen the serene ambiance by the black lake as their study sanctuary, immersing themselves in the preparation for the upcoming charms exam next week.

Over the past three days, you had gradually grown somewhat acquainted with his friends. While you hadn't quite reached the level of camaraderie, there was a palpable shift in their attitudes towards you, a subtle warmth replacing the earlier distance. This change in dynamics became more evident, especially after the unsettling incident involving Berkshire, who still remained confined to the hospital wing, almost a week later.

With determined resolve, you traversed the courtyard and descended the hill toward the lake, drawing in a steadying breath. Each step echoed your silent promise: to honour Mattheo's boundaries, even if it felt like swallowing shards of glass. The crisp air seemed to echo your determination as you neared the group of Slytherin boys, their laughter and banter carried on the breeze.

Among them, Mattheo sat with his usual nonchalant demeanor, his tousled hair framing his intense eyes. A cigarette dangled effortlessly from his fingers, his bag slumped lazily beside him as he rested stoically against a tall tree, lost in conversation with Malfoy. As you veered closer, his gaze met yours briefly, as though he sensed your presence, the darkness within his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. Beside him, Blaise Zabini's face lit up with anticipation, a welcoming smile playing on his lips as he waved you over.

"Well good evening, little raven...always a pleasure," Blaise grinned, his tone teasing as he made room for you to sit down next to him. "Here to keep an eye on Riddle, are you?"

As you settled into the space between Blaise and Mattheo, the group of boys, including Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Regulus Black, welcomed you with light smiles and eager nods.

"Perhaps." You teased, sneaking a glance at Mattheo, his gaze planted on the cigarette between his fingers as he fiddled with it. "Or perhaps I'm here to make sure you lot don't burn down the entire forest during your little 'study session'..."

"Rest assured, we're Hogwarts' best-behaved troublemakers," Draco chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief, a cocky smile playing on his lips. "But if you're worried about the forest, maybe you should stick around...your presence might just be the calming influence we need."

Your blush was undeniable as you smirked, meeting Draco's silver eyes across from Mattheo. He leaned back on his palms as his gaze darted over your features, the top buttons of his uniform shirt undone, exuding an air of effortless confidence.

"I know enough about you, Malfoy, to know that's the furthest thing from the truth," you said, your tone teasing. "But either way, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon...unfortunately for him, Riddle here is stuck with me for a few more weeks."

Blaise chuckled, his voice low and smooth. "Ah, the lucky bloke," he replied, his eyes meeting yours with a smouldering intensity. "If I had my way, you'd find yourself stuck with me, instead...and I assure you, it would be a much more enjoyable experience..."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Oh yes," he teased, his voice a playful melody as he shot Mattheo a knowing wink. "I know all too well the misery of enduring Riddle's icy presence all day; he could freeze a bloody dragon with that demeanor...it's almost cute that you think you'll be able to change him."

The timbre of his voice, a melodic dance of amusement, filled the space around you, and Mattheo's demeanor, once steely and composed, seemed to falter slightly under the weight of Blaise's remarks.

His features tightened, as if grappling with invisible chains, and your own smile, once confident, wavered slightly, betraying the impact of Blaise's words. Swallowing hard, you felt the weight of his teasing remarks settle in the pit of your stomach, a heavy reminder of the argument you and Mattheo had just a few days ago. Despite the discomfort, you summoned your courage, your voice soft yet resolute as you spoke.

"I'm not trying to change him, Blaise," your words hung in the air, delicate and firm, like a fragile thread of understanding. "I'm just here to support him...whenever he's ready to let me."

Your words lingered for a moment, underscoring your unwavering dedication to bolster Mattheo without imposing change upon his core. Although you were directing these words at Blaise, you hoped Mattheo had taken heed of them--as this mentorship, you understood now, was not about altering his identity; it was about assisting him in unraveling the internal struggles, urging him to redirect his anger into positive outlets rather than combatting every perceived threat with physical violence.

Blaise's eyes softened, his usual playful demeanor giving way to a more contemplative expression. He leaned in closer, his gaze scanning your features with a profound curiosity, as if searching for hidden depths within your soul. His voice, now tinged with awe and respect, broke the silence.

"Where have you been all this time, hm? He could have used someone like you years ago..." he murmured, his gaze shifting between you and Mattheo, a glint of intrigue shimmering in his dark eyes. "She must truly be something special for you to willingly sacrifice your freedom for her, Riddle."

"A special pain in my ass, yeah," Mattheo said, his voice seemingly devoid of emotion, a subtle hint of sarcasm lacing his words. As he took a draw of his cigarette, a flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes, the smoke curling around him like a shield. "Nothing about this arrangement was willingly chosen, Zabini..."

Despite the gravity of his words, a rush of warmth surged within you at Mattheo's candid remark. Amusement sparked in your eyes, a glint of playful defiance as you tried to suppress a smirk that threatened to betray your composure.

"Don't let him fool you, he loves it..." your voice, low and teasing, hung in the air, the words daring and provocative as you shamelessly appraised Mattheo's hardened features. "Isn't that right, Riddle? You know you enjoy being kept on your toes for once..."

Mattheo met your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly, but a flicker of amusement danced in their depths. Your boldness didn't go unnoticed, a silent understanding passing between you amidst the banter. With an air of nonchalance, he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he brought his cigarette to his mouth once more.

"Yeah, that's what I enjoy," he drawled, his tone dry and drenched in sarcasm. "Being kept on my toes."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at Mattheo's sneakily playful words, your attempt to conceal your reaction falling short. Your eyes dropped to your lap, a feeble effort to shield your reddening face from the prying eyes around you. The charged words hung thick in the air, every gaze in the circle keenly aware of the subtle shift in dynamics. Before you could even think to react, Theodore Nott's voice, low and teasing, sliced through the tension, his eyes glinting with a playful gleam that hinted at secrets only he knew.

"Careful, Bella Mia..." he cautioned, his words hanging in the space between you, laden with enigmatic warnings. "You'll only get hurt."

Confusion knit your brows, a perplexed frown marring your features as you tried to decipher his cryptic statement.

"What?" you asked, your voice betraying your bewilderment.

"Your smile..." he replied with a knowing smirk, his tone light but filled with subtle implications, "...you look like you're about to fall in love."

The breath caught in your throat, the world around you momentarily blurring as Theodore's unexpected revelation hit you like a tidal wave. The color drained from your cheeks, leaving your face pale, and your heart thudded against your ribs with a fervent urgency, as if pleading for clarity. Flustered and unprepared, you turned your gaze toward Mattheo, seeking solace in his familiar presence.

Nervousness danced in your eyes, a desperate search for reassurance before you stammered out a denial, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush. "Fall...in love? With Mattheo? Sorry, no...no bloody way."

Your words spilled out in a hurried, almost desperate attempt to dispel the implication, yet there was an undeniable tremor in your voice, a subtle quiver that betrayed the unease settling deep within you. Mattheo's eyes met yours, but they held an emptiness, a haunting void that sent a shiver down your spine, something distant flickering within them, making your stomach twist in uneasy knots.

Around you, the group erupted into sneers and light chuckles, their amusement palpable as they sensed your flustered expression. But your attention remained fixated on Mattheo, his silent gaze carrying the weight of Theodore's words, a looming storm cloud hanging over your heads, heavy with unspoken implications.

In love. The notion seemed absurd, impossible even. No, it couldn't be true. There was no way.

"Nott's right, you'll only get hurt..." Malfoy's sneering voice cut through the air, his words laced with a malicious amusement as he cast a sideways glance at Theodore, who snickered in agreement. "You're far too innocent for Riddle... he'd chew you up and spit you out in a second...any of us would..."

He paused, his cold eyes darting from yours to Mattheo's, and back to yours again, as if sizing up the situation. A sly smirk played on his lips, the cruel glint in his eyes sharpening. "Well, perhaps not Notty boy here; he's a little softer."

A surge of heat coursed through your veins, igniting a fierce determination within you that contrasted sharply with the warm, gentle breeze caressing your skin. Despite the pressure weighing heavily upon you and the palpable weight of their expectations hanging in the air, you refused to succumb to their underestimation. With your pulse quickening, you squared your shoulders, locking eyes with Malfoy's cocky gaze.

"You know...I don't believe I'm as fragile as you all seem to think I am," you retorted, words laced with conviction, challenging their perception of you. "I can handle myself just fine."

"Don't let her appearance fool you," Mattheo's words, unexpectedly slicing through the charged atmosphere, nearly startled your heart out of your chest. His voice, dripping with playful irony, reverberated through your limbs as he spoke without even sparing you a glance, his dark hair framing his face and his whiskey eyes meeting Malfoy's with a challenging glint. "That pretty face hides one hell of a devilish mind."

A collective reaction rippled through the group of boys, their eyebrows shooting up in surprise, their smirks growing wider. The implications of Mattheo's remark hung thick in the air, sparking newfound curiosity and amusement that crackled in the atmosphere like electricity. Malfoy seized the opportunity, his smirk taking on a mischievous edge.

"Now you're calling her pretty, Riddle?" he teased, his tone laced with playful skepticism. "Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two? You have been spending a hell of a lot of time together..."

Simultaneously, you both shot back with lightening speed--your words colliding mid-air, overlapping with the others quick response in a chaotic symphony of denial.

"He wishes," you said, your voice carrying a playful edge--while at the same instant, Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and wit. "In her bloody dreams," he said.

Your synchronized responses elicited another round of chuckles from the boys, a shared moment of camaraderie at the expense of you and Mattheo. The tension between the two of you remained, but the exchange had shifted into a playful rhythm, now, the unspoken dynamics between you two sparking curiosity among the others. Malfoy's chuckles gradually faded, replaced by a challenging glint in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips.

"Alright then...little good girl," he drawled, his tone laden with mischief. "Why don't you prove it?"

Your nerves prickled beneath your skin, a rush of anxiety coursing through your veins as you stammered, "Prove...it? Prove what?"

"Prove that you aren't as innocent and fragile as we think you are," he challenged, his words hanging in the air like a dare. "Prove that you're more than just your books and your pushy, smartass attitude."

Nervously, you glanced around the circle at each of the boys, their eyes fixed on you with wide grins of anticipation. The weight of their expectations pressed upon you, and you felt the intensity of the moment, wether you wished to ignore it or not. Mattheo didn't dare to meet your gaze, but you could sense the slight smirk playing on his lips as he casually fiddled with his cigarette. After a long, silent moment, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"Fine, Malfoy," you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. "Challenge excepted."

With determination, you pushed off the ground, turning your attention away from the circle and toward the tranquil expanse of the black lake. The challenge had been accepted, and you were ready to prove that there was more to you than met the eye, ready to do whatever the hell you needed to earn their respect in your own damned way.

The boys surrounding you stared in wide-eyed shock as you swiftly shrugged off your uniform jacket, the soft fabric falling carelessly to the grassy ground. With a quick motion, you kicked off your shoes, the blades of grass tickling your feet beneath the fading sunlight--it was dark enough now that if you moved away from them, toward the edge of the lake, and stripped off your skirt and shirt, they wouldn't be able to see too much. Nevertheless, they'd still catch glimpses, and that was precisely the point.

Mattheo, still seated, shot you a puzzled look, his eyes narrowing with sheer confusion and concern.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he questioned, his voice slicing through the stunned silence. The weight of his gaze bore into you, searching for an explanation that might justify your unexpected actions. A surge of confidence pushed you forward, your resolve unwavering.

"I'm going to prove that I'm more than what you all think," you replied, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And that sometimes, good girls do bad things, too."

Theodore Nott, always one to read the room, glanced between you and Mattheo, a sly smile playing on his lips. "This should be interesting," he murmured, his tone laced with amusement. "Salazar save us..."

With a newfound sense of liberation, you descended toward the tranquil lake, the gentle lapping of water against the shore a soothing melody in the background. The soft rustle of the wind caressed your ears, heightening the anticipation that hung thick in the air. As you began to undo the buttons on your uniform blouse, each delicate movement resonated with the weight of the challenge, setting your heart racing in your chest.

With every button that slipped out, the tension in the atmosphere grew palpable, the burning gazes of the captivated boys etched into your flesh. The fabric of your blouse glided off your shoulders, landing gracefully on the grass like a discarded shield at your feet. Standing there, clad in nothing but your bra and skirt, you felt a heady mix of exhilaration and vulnerability wash over you.

As the cool evening air enveloped your skin, you sensed a presence behind you. Slowly, you peeked over your shoulder to find Mattheo sprinting toward you, his brows furrowed in disbelief and his eyes widened in pure shock. He came to a halt just a few feet away, his voice laden with a mixture of astonishment and genuine concern.

"Have you lost your bloody mind?" he exclaimed, his words a sharp contrast to the stunned silence that had fallen over the group. "You're going to fucking freeze..."

His gaze flickered over you, a kaleidoscope of emotions playing in his eyes, the dominant one undeniably being shock, tinged with a hint of something else--something unspoken and complex. Under the intensity of his stare, you felt a rush of warmth suffuse your skin, a bold defiance kindling within you as your hands moved to the band of your skirt. With deliberate slowness, you teased the length of its waist, holding his eyes captive in a daring challenge.

"What's the matter, Riddle?" you purred, savoring the power in the moment, knowing he couldn't physically intervene in front of his friends without arousing suspicion. "Are you truly worried about me?" Your voice dropped into a low, nearly inaudible whisper as your smirk deepened, relishing the way his eyes tracked your hands. "Or...perhaps...you're just unable to handle other men looking at your property..."

Mattheo's frustration was palpable, his brows furrowing as he struggled to maintain his composure. Yet, beneath the annoyance, there was a glimmer of amusement, a reluctant acknowledgment of your audacity.

"You're playing with fire, again, aren't you?" he muttered, his tone a blend of exasperation and begrudging amusement. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a hint of admiration for your boldness despite the irritation simmering beneath the surface. "Just be careful you don't get burned."

"Oh, please," you retorted, unable to contain your smirk, the confidence in your voice echoing your daring spirit. "Witches don't burn."

With a swift, decisive motion, you cast your skirt aside, the fabric pooling on the grass as you dashed toward the lake with unbridled determination. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, dulling the edge of the initial shock as you plunged into the cold water. A sharp gasp cut through the night as the icy embrace of the lake stole your breath away, the shock of the temperature quickly giving way to exhilaration. In the background, the boys erupted into cheers and hollers, their admiration for your audacious leap resonating in the crisp evening air like a chorus of approval.

Meanwhile, at the shore, Mattheo stood half-stunned, his eyes widening in surprise before that sly smirk slowly crept back onto his face. He watched you with a mix of amusement and something else, something that look almost like an undeniable respect for your audacity. His fingers absently toyed with his cigarette as he observed your fearless actions, his usual stoic demeanor momentarily shattered by your bold act.

From the water, you observed the boys exchanging glances, their smirks hinting at a shared understanding that transcended words. With an unspoken agreement, they shrugged in unison, a collective "fuck it" echoing through the air. One by one, they rose to their feet, shedding their uniforms with carefree abandon until they stood just as exposed as you were. Their toned bodies glistened under the evening sky, the moonlight filtering through the clouds, casting a silvery glow upon their skin.

With lively laughter echoing through the night air, the boys sprinted toward you, their infectious excitement palpable even from a distance. They effortlessly brushed past Mattheo, who stood frozen in place, his expression a mosaic of shock and amusement, his eyes tracking each of his friends as they leaped into the water alongside you. As the cold water embraced them, the boys couldn't help but groan in unison, their playful complaints filling the air.

"Bloody hell, it's freezing..." Reggie exclaimed, eliciting chuckles from the others. “How the fuck did I think this was a good idea…”

Amidst the banter, they turned their attention to you, their expressions a blend of awe and admiration.

"You've definitely surprised us, little bird," Theodore teased, his tone laced with genuine respect. "Making this look so easy, aren't you?"

Malfoy's voice echoed with a mix of amusement and challenge as he shouted across the water to Mattheo.

"Riddle, don't be a killjoy," he taunted, a playful glint in his eyes. "I know you can't resist a good challenge...you're really going to let little raven here outshine you like this?”

The words hung in the air, a tempting dare that Mattheo couldn't ignore. He stood at the water's edge, his expression a mixture of hesitation and a playful grumbling--clearly debating whether to join the revelry or stay put. You grinned as you watched, his face sporting a resigned yet amused expression, as he finally succumbed, muttering under his breath as he peeled off his uniform with deliberate slowness.

"You guys are bloody mad," he grumbled as he folded his clothes neatly on the shore, his movements deliberate and slightly begrudging. "If we catch hypothermia, Raven, I'm blaming you."

Finally, with a sarcastic salute and a roll of his eyes, he took a deep breath and dove into the water, his entry marked by a splash that mirrored the energy and excitement of the night, everyone erupting into laughter at his little display. Mattheo waded over, his playful irritation evident in the way he shot you a mock glare before unleashing a playful splash, water droplets scattering in all directions.

"Mattheo!" You squealed, wiping the water from your face. "You bloody arse!"

His eyes twinkled with mischief, and he couldn't help but smirk as you retaliated, sending a splash of water right back at him. The tension from earlier had transformed into a playful energy, the group now engaged in a water fight, laughter filling the air as splashes and giggles and squeals intermingled.

Before you knew it, everyone was caught up in the spirited frenzy, water splashing in every direction as the boys chased each other, their playful shouts and laughter blending harmoniously. Mattheo, who had initially been the reluctant participant, seemed to revel in the chaos, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he retaliated with gusto, no longer holding back.

As the water fight intensified, you noticed Mattheo momentarily distracted, his attention diverted by the antics of the other boys. Seizing the opportunity, you discreetly gathered a handful of mud from the lakebed, forming it into a small, compact ball. With careful precision, you approached him from behind, your steps silent in the water, and with a swift motion, you lobbed the mud ball, aiming for Mattheo's shoulder.

The ball hit its mark perfectly, leaving a satisfying splatter of mud on his skin, the boys erupting into laughter, thoroughly entertained by your clever move. However, turning around, Mattheo's eyes widened in exaggerated shock, his voice tinged with playful hurt.

"Did you just fucking ambush me? In front of my own men?" he exclaimed, his tone laced with feigned betrayal as he theatrically wiped the mud off his skin. “You’re real fucking bold, aren’t you, Raven?”

You snickered, grinning at the fact you’d caught him off guard like that. “You know what they say…never drop your guard, Mattheo…”

A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes as he casually glanced over your shoulder, spotting Theodore wading in the water behind you and Malfoy standing just a bit to your side. A subtle shift occurred in Mattheo's demeanor, a silent understanding passing between him, Theodore, and Malfoy. Their eyes exchanged a knowing look, a shared sense of mischief darkening their expressions. Mattheo's voice, once filled with mock hurt, now dripped with wicked amusement as he issued his command.

"Grab her, boys," he ordered, his voice taking on a sinister edge, setting the stage for the impeding revenge. "Time to show the little bird what happens when you mess with a bunch of venomous snakes."

Excitement surged through your veins, a thrilling concoction of adrenaline and laughter, as you attempted to evade their grasp. Your heart raced, the pounding in your chest echoing the playful chaos around you. Despite your best efforts, Theodore's fingers wrapped firmly around your arm, and Malfoy's grip held your other, their strength ensuring your playful struggles were in vain.

“Come on, Mattheo!” You squirmed and giggled, a delightful blend of resistance and amusement, as you found yourself caught in their playful trap. “I’m sorry, please…”

Mattheo, his confidence soaring now that you were being successfully restrained, seized a hefty clump of mud, his fingers sinking into its cool, squishy texture. As he spun back around, his eyes locked onto yours, and with deliberate measured steps, he closed the distance between you, his movements exuding a cocky swagger that only intensified your anxiety.

"Any last words, Raven?" he taunted, his voice dripping with playful malice, the echoes of your impending fate resonating in the air like a looming storm. "If you wish to pathetically apologize for that ignorant display, now is the time to do so."

"Mattheo, please!" Desperation and regret flooded your voice, your pleas tumbling out in a desperate rush, mingling with the tension that hung heavy in the air. "I'm so sorry, please don't--I didn't mean to-"

But Mattheo merely shook his head, a triumphant smirk curving his lips, dismissing your words with a casual flick of his hand.

"Actually, just decided it's too late for ass-kissing now, princess," he sneered, his words cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Brace yourself."

With a swift motion, he hurled the mud at you, the clump splattering against your chest. Laughter erupted from the boys, their camaraderie deepening in the chaos of the moment. And you, caught in their playful trap, couldn't help but join in the laughter, realizing that the evening had taken an unexpected turn, transforming into a memorable, joyous escapade under the moonlit sky.

As the boys finally released their grip, laughter still lingering in the air, Mattheo met your eyes, his gaze dipping over your mud-splattered form with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

Grumbling, you couldn't resist a playful jab, "You're such an ass."

His chuckle transformed into a self-assured grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Guilty as charged," he admitted, his voice teasing. "But you have to admit, it was worth it for that look on your face."

You let out a reluctant chuckle, realizing the absurdity of the situation. "Fine, you win this round," you conceded, unable to suppress a smile. "But don't get too comfortable; next time I'm bringing everything I got."

"I'm counting on it," Mattheo replied with a grin, a spark of anticipation in his eyes, acknowledging the challenge you had just thrown his way. “Wouldn’t be normal for you if you didn’t.”

After a little bit longer, the group of you finally emerged from the water, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across the night sky. Laughter and playful groans of annoyance filled the air as you all struggled to peel your clothes back on, the urgency to get back to the castle evident in the chilly breeze that swept through the night.

With clothes clinging damply to your skin, you all made your way back, sharing stories and laughter along the path. The atmosphere was light, the shared escapade having created a bond among you, making the cold night feel a little warmer. As you approached the castle, a sense of accomplishment and newfound friendship enveloped the group, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the unexpected turn the night had taken, leaving you with a memory of an exhilarating adventure under the starlit sky.

—————————-

Chapter 23->

[teatreeoilll]

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna drabble-headcanon thingy part 2 | part I here w/c - 750 cw: manga spoilers (although I'm only on chapter 180 so if it kind of doesn't make sense with the rest I'm sorry!!)

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who wakes up a thousand years later, now trapped in a boy's body, unaware of the fact that you, too, had made a deal with the devil to satisfy your yet unmet need for revenge.

Hein Era

"You must be Kenjaku," you said, relief washing over your body. It has been three long years since you've decided to find the man, the journey wearing you out, turning you into an empty shell in tattered rags.

"May the traveler who knows my name introduce herself?" He proposed, not making the effort to turn around from his position over the cooking pot. The shabby hut you stood in and his mild demeanor hardly lived up to the reputation of the most vicious man to set foot in Japan in eons.

And so you do, with a deep bow and a mutter of your name, "I've come to an understanding that to kill the man I wish dead might take more than one lifetime," you proclaimed, "and I've been told you're the one to turn to."

Tokyo, 2018

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna felt something strange the moment Itadori Yuji fell face-first into Tokyo Colony No. 1. However, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was, like the dull wistfulness of an old perfume. Itadori Yuji sensed it too, but had little time to muse over such things when he was too busy fighting to try to locate Higuruma Hiromi.

"Kogane, show me player Higuruma Hiromi," you order, looking at the information popping up, "his points are gone. Is he the one who changed the rule?" You don't wait for an answer before continuing, "It doesn't matter; he might still know something. Ikebukuro's close now."

You walk through the concrete and metal jungle; these people have built themselves miles upon miles of castles, you think, Sukuna probably enjoys watching them crumble.

When you approach the theater you were told Higuruma resides in, a boy walks out. As soon as he catches a glimpse of you, he halts, standing on guard on the other side of the road.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna has seen many faces, but yours was one that hadn't faded from his memory by the passing of time.

"I don't want to fight!" The boy exclaimed from across the road, but his shoulders were drawn back, fists curled near his pockets.

"I do not wish to fight either!" You shout back, thinking that another battle may wash off the remains of your strength. Besides, what good would it do to fight a young boy? Although only the look of his pink hair made your teeth clench and stomach tighten.

You watch the boy take a seat on the pavement, "Are you hurt?" You inquire, slowly drawing closer across the pavement.

"Just taking a breather!" He shouts, but you decide to approach regardless.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who laughs. He howls like a maniac inside Yuji's head, sending strange vibrations throughout the boy's body.

"Are you alright?" You ask the boy, watching him nod as he gulps the water you handed him. The resemblance is striking, you think, but perhaps I'm just thinking too much of it.

"Thank you," he puts the empty water bottle by his side, "I'm sorry I drank all your water."

"It's nothing." You assure him, "Have you seen Higuruma here? I've a question for him."

"I don't think he's the kind to answer questions," Yuji reflected, getting up from the sidewalk.

"I won't leave him much of a choice." You asserted, watching the boy's doubtful expression, "Do you have any insight you may offer on his technique?"

"Well, I don't think I understand it, really, but.." Yuji starts explaining, watching your brows furrow as you nod along at his descriptions.

You thank him, parting curtly before turning away towards the theater.

"Wait!" Yuji exclaims behind you, "What's the question? Maybe I'll save you the trouble."

You doubt his words, but turn back to face him, "There's a man I'm looking to kill," you disclosed, "trust me, you'd want him dead too,” you chuckle, pausing for a moment, but deciding there's no harm in asking, "Sukuna, do you know where he is?"

Yuji freezes, his heartbeat quickening at the mention of the name, his wide eyes pointed straight at you.

"Didn't think so," you sigh.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who pops out as a mouth carved in Yuji's cheek, causing you to jump back slightly at the bizarre sight while he taunted loudly;

"You're not going to tell her, brat?"

_

tag list: @saoirseirose, @marimeown, @http-dilflvr Thank you guys for the wonderful comments on part one, hope this one doesn't disappoint

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 10.

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: None? Maybe a little bit of suggestiveness 😏😏

Azriel was terrified. His palms sweating uncontrollably, causing him to constantly brush them against his cobalt tunic in the hope of hiding his nerves. This was it. His second chance, his redo of the already perfect first date to prove to his mate just how much she meant to him. The date he hoped would consolidate the bond between them, either snapping into place for the unaware woman naturally or if that failed to occur, Azriel would have to pluck up the courage to tell her himself.

That was if he didn’t blurt the words into her face the very moment he sees her next. Azriel was already having to forcefully swallow down the words which were crawling up his throat, an unwanted tickle that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he cleared his throat.

He was practicing to himself, whispering under his breath as he tried to formulate exactly how he’d like to tell her if it comes to it. Not wanting to mess it up if the moment arrives, afraid of being rendered speechless when it does. Azriel also prayed to the cauldron that this practice, the utters of love and devotion on his lips, would ensure that he didn’t just scream ‘mate’ at her the moment she opened her door. The last thing he wanted after finally coming so close to the happiness he had always dreamed of, was to scare her away and further embarrass himself in the process.

So here he was mumbling away to himself as he sat outside the small cottage Y/N had been staying in whilst working in the Day Court village. His desire to be alone with her without the curious gaze of the villagers, had almost driven Azriel to shoot up into the sky to escape them. Y/N wrapped securely in his arms, as he brought them to a location where it could be just the two of them. Y/N, however, had felt his change in demeanour - no doubt he had passed his emotions through the bond she didn’t even know was there - and begged the male for just a little bit of time to freshen up and send Helion a message explaining where she was going.

In hindsight, Azriel was grateful for her slight delay. Having realised that in his frantic efforts to find Y/N, he hadn’t even had time to think about what he was going to do and where he would take her. He had been driven by pure instinct. Even now his senses were only just starting to trickle back as Azriel rushed to come up with a plan.

A quick message to Rhysand, the passing of a mental image of what he needed and a promise that he would explain why later, and the date was planned. So now Azriel didn’t just have to worry about the growing anxiety in anticipation of the night ahead, but also the terrifying prospect of having to go home and explain everything that had unfolded over the past few weeks to his clueless family. Though the thought of telling his brothers that he too had finally found his other half did send a wave of joy through Azriel.

Finally, the sharp click of a handle turning rang out, drawing Azriel from his worried state. His eyes flickered towards the source of the sound and instantly a wave of calm washed over his body, mind clearing of all anxiety as he laid his golden eyes upon the heavenly woman before him in awe. And the world stopped.

~~~~~

Azriel could have been told it was the Mother herself before him and he would have believed it. The soft glow Y/N radiated due to the burning ember of the sun setting gave her the appearance of a goddess. A soft halo of light surrounding her as if she had been painted by some higher power.

And her dress. A flowing delight of warm yellows and gold, sparkling as if the swirling golden thread was made of pure sunlight, and that was exactly what she was. The bright sun in Azriel’s dull world. The ethereal light that shone from her pure soul was enough to keep the darkness at bay, to command Azriel’s shadows to bow down before the celestial woman before him.

Azriel who had spent the past few months wondering why the cauldron didn’t match him with Elain now saw the truth standing before his very eyes, as he wondered how it was possible that he didn’t notice the bond sooner. Y/N had been created for him just as he had been for her. A perfectly matched antithesis. Light and dark. Day and night. And Azriel would spend the rest of his life grateful to the cauldron for making this force of a woman his mate.

“Azriel?” A concerned Y/N who had been trying to get the males attention broke his silent worship of her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in the whole of Prythian”

And he meant it, not even all the stars in the night sky would ever compare to the beauty that is Y/N.

She blushed, a sweet pink blush that perfectly complimented the tone of her shimmering dress. “And I,” she smiled shyly up at the male, eyes hidden underneath her fluttering lashes, “I have never seen a man so handsome, that he looked as if he had been carved by the cauldron itself.”

He gently took her hand which was resting loosely by her side, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to her skin, a matching blush dusted across his own cheeks.

“So what exciting plans do you have for me this time?” Y/N smiled brightly as she spoke, a smile which made Azriel’s knees tremble weakly and his heart skip a beat as it pulsed ferociously in his chest. He would be lying if he said her smile didn’t make him feel a certain way.

“ We,” Azriel started, hovering his warm lips close to Y/N’s until he could feel the breath leaving her mouth, lips grazing against each others as he continued to speak, “are going to another court. I can’t deny you of your need to see the world any longer.” He closed the space between them, connecting their lips firmly as Y/N squealed in excitement at the prospect of visiting another court. Her joyous smile so wide that Azriel reluctantly had to pull away from the kiss. But he was glad he did, for the image of Y/N’s earth-shattering smile as she looked up at him, dressed in gold, was enough to top the memory he had preserved of her standing in the garden all those weeks ago.

“Hold on tight” he warned, pulling her in by her waist until she was tight against his chest in a soothing embrace, Azriel’s lips brushing softly against her neck as his shadows consumed them.

~~~~~

Y/N gasped as the cool flakes of falling snow kissed her cheeks as they materialised in the Winter Court. An amazed wonder on her face as she took in her surroundings. The thick blanket of velvet snow which covered the ground. The glistening branches of the fur trees, bending gently with the weight of the icy powder. And the most beautiful view of all, the crystalline patterns which weaved over the frozen lake, icy branches appearing as though they were delicately painted by hand.

“It’s…magnificent” she stared, silvery tears lining her shining eyes. “Yeah, it is” Azriel replied, his loving eyes failing to leave her face, not bothering to look at what she was speaking of. A subtle shiver, from a not very appropriately dressed Y/N, caused Azriel to tear his eyes from her frame to search for the bag of goods he had asked Rhysand to drop off, praying the male had done what was asked of him.

Locating the bag, he willed himself to leave Y/N’s shaking side to go and pull out the cloak he had requested inside. His hands settling over the thick material as he removed it from the bag, a cloak of Night Court black. Azriel swept the item over Y/N’s shoulders, hands moving to fasten the golden clasp at the neck before uncontrollably drifting up to her watching face, his thumb running slowly over her lip. Admiring how even adorned in the darkest of shades, Y/N still shone brighter than any star in the sky. Nothing could dim her light.

“There’s more!” Azriel cleared his throat quickly, removing his hand as if the touch of her skin had electrocuted him. Fearing what would overcome him if he held onto her for a little bit longer. His body burning warmly even in the cold air, the presence of her body close to his being all the fuel he needed. The sight of her dressed in the colour of his court enough to create a tingling sensation which travelled further south than he’d like to admit.

Azriel distracted himself from this sensation by routing through the bag once more, pulling out two sets of boots, silver blades attached to the bottom of their soles. “I thought we’d try something new” his words came out more anxious than he had intended, now worried that this would be something Y/N had no interest in having never even seen ice before.

“It’s a perfect idea Azriel” she reassured him, a comforting hand resting on his shoulder. And so Azriel helped her slip from her dainty shoes into the warming boots his brother had managed to find him. Tying the laces and letting his hand selfishly drift over her legs for longer than needed.

He then put his own shoes on, stumbling around as he pushed himself up off the floor in the unfamiliar footwear, Y/N’s arms flying out to stabilise him. “Careful” she giggled as he slipped around, “wouldn’t want you to damage that pretty face of yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

~~~~~

To anyone else it would have been a hilarious sight, the spymaster of the Night Court and a girl from Day who had never seen snow, gripping onto each other tightly as they made tiny steps together in their bladed-boots, attempting to reach the edge of the frosty lake. To Azriel, however, this was a moment he would cherish forever.

He was uncomfortable, sure, but he had found his other half and dared to try a new thing by choice and to him, that made him unstoppable. And so despite the blisters already forming as the boots rubbed against his feet, Azriel allowed himself to plaster the widest smile he had ever worn across his face as he pushed off the snow covered ground, skating onto the frozen surface. A giggling Y/N following suit, their hands locked together as they stumbled like newborn deer onto the ice.

They weren’t graceful by any means, there were numerous times where one of them was picking the other off the floor after they had fallen, hearty laughs upon their lips. But they didn’t need to be graceful or fluid, the two moved in a dance that was their own, just like that day in the corridor of his building.

The two performed shaky twirls and uneven spins. If anyone were watching from the rivers edge they would see two ghosts dancing in the mist of the evening, a dark mass shadows copying their movements and curling around the pair. Life and death meeting in the solitude of the Winter Courts wilderness, hidden away from the rest of the world and locked in a never ending dance.

Until the moment was broken by the pick of Azriel’s blade getting caught on an uneven patch of ice. The male went flying, roughly crashing into Y/N and knocking them both breathlessly onto the floor. Just as they had been doing all night when one had fallen, Azriel broke out into a roar of laughter, chest heaving with glee as he howled from where he was leaning over Y/N, arms on either side of her head as they shook.

But Y/N just stared at Azriel in shock. Wide eyes never faltering from his grinning face. At her failure to reciprocate how funny Azriel found this situation he panicked, “What’s wrong!” He cried out into the silence, hands gripping onto her face as his eyes searched her body for any injuries, “Are you hurt?!”

“Mate” Y/N choked out as if winded, disbelief flashing across her face, “You’re my mate!”

If possible an even more surprised expression crossed her face as Azriel beamed a wide smile instead of matching the shock she held at the revelation. He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, body collapsing on top of hers as he no longer held his weight up, the two tangled together in a loving embrace.

“You’re my mate” he confirmed, planting kisses in every location his lips could reach. “Mine” he couldn’t do anything to stop the world he growled against her skin as he sucked lightly on her neck.

Needing answers, Y/N mustered the strength the push the male away, breathlessly asking, “how long?”

“I didn’t know” Azriel panted, adrenaline spiking in his body at the events which were finally unfolding, “not until I’d gone back home and I put on the tunic. And it just made sense. I should have known all along, you’re my missing half. You’re my mate Y/N and I love you and I shall spend forever loving you as the cauldron intended. Now I have you, I never want to live without you again.”

He pulled her back towards him, continuing his attack of kisses, Y/N seemed satisfied with his answer as she allowed him to continue roughly dragging his lips across the exposed skin of her neck contentedly, humming as he did so at the taste of her.

“My mate” she giggled, testing the sound of it on her lips, Azriel moving his head to kiss the words as they exited her lips, “my beautiful mate. I have felt drawn to you from the minute I laid my eyes on you. I was never supposed to get to know you as well as I did, but I just couldn’t stay away no matter how much I tried. Everything I did, everywhere I went, it all led back to you. Because it’s you Azriel. It’s always been you. My heart calls to you because you’re my home…my mate.”

Azriel would never get tired of hearing her say the words. The words that joined them together through a bond greater than anyone could understand. The bond that meant Azriel belonged to her. The day had had finally come for Azriel to start living his life and the best part about it was that he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Part 11

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I wrote this while sick af so if I come back tomorrow and it’s terrible I’m going to hate myself 😭

I know I said this would be the last chapter before the epilogue but I have one more planned…

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[sports-on-sundays]

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

[novalpha]

𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘢 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Virgin killer ♡★ -> @wonusite Part 2

Synopsis: You can’t stand the clear line the cute nerd in your calculus class always draws between you two. However, you’re determined to show him that there’s a fine line between love and hate. And if you happen to get him to cross that line, even better.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Anonymously Yours ♡୨୧✹ -> @joonsytip

Synopsis: After an accidental text message turns into a digital friendship, you and Joshua start crushing on each other without realizing you both see each other frequently in real life. Notable Mention: You both hate each other's guts....

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretty when you cry ★ -> @cheolhub

summary. joshua just loves how pretty you look when you’re in tears.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say it back ♡ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: A tipsy Joshua is a clingy Joshua.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Vanilla ★♡ -> @milfgyuu

Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wildest dreams ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: it’s your last year of school forever, and you’re about to meet the most horrifying chapter of life: the real world. now worrying about your life’s lack of spontaneity, you decide to get married to your best friend in vegas for 24 hours.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Beautiful day Sunday morning ★♡ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Joshua’s tried everything, but he just can’t stop being in love with his best friend

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Steamy ★ -> @duhnova

next door neighbor!joshua - unfortunately in the middle of your shower your hot water breaks so you have to go next door and ask your unnaturally hot neighbor if you can use his

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Domino ♡✹★ -> @universecorp

Summary: After a one night stand on your birthday, you never expected to meet the stranger again. You also never expected him to enter your life permanently.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the rose ♡★ -> @just-come-baek

Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Late to the party ★ -> @sluttywoozi Part 2 , Sundress Szn

Summary: You try to convince Joshua to go to Cheol's birthday party. Joshua tries to convince you to have a party for two | husband!joshua, husband joshua is horny and in love with you

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your gentleman ★ -> @wonwussy

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Leaning on the everlasting arms ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Best friend's brother ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To you ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fine line ♡୨୧★ -> @heartkyeom

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Untitled ♡୨୧ -> @gyu-effect

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Paint by numbers ♡୨୧ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Golden Hour ♡ -> @dkfile

summer ends in less than a month, leaving you with a limited amount of time to build up the courage to profess your undying love for your best friend before he leaves again for college. alternatively the summer of pining, featuring a group of annoyed bystanders.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cranberry concoctions ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had.

[ More joshua recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned. 

You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights. 

Mindy spots you right away and waves at you. 

"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.  

They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head. 

Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part. 

You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends. 

 You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.

A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence. 

Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?

Those two have been through hell and back. 

"Have you guys seen Connor?" 

While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin. 

"One-track minded, huh?"

Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."

Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. 

"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."

"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens. 

Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.

"I’ll see you guys later."

"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.

Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late. 

Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up. 

 As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.

An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you. 

"Hi."

"Hey, looking good."

"You too, cowboy."

You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets. 

You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had. 

"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours. 

It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along. 

You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.

You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.

"Hey again," you greet. 

He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.

"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."

Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words. 

College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way. 

Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention. 

You pivot in your high heels.

Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"

Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you. 

"Just ran a bit late," you mumble. 

His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"

Pursing your mouth, you hesitate. 

"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"

He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him. 

His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room. 

"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"

You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze. 

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."

His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.

Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway. 

"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?" 

At first, you’re a bit confused. 

Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room. 

Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much. 

Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer. 

You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm. 

"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"

He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away. 

You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.

Both you and Connor step outside. 

Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him. 

He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless. 

"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves. 

When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest. 

A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you. 

"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.

Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp. 

"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."

His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes. 

"Connor, please…" you whimper.

Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer. 

"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."

His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice. 

This isn’t nice. 

And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.

But things don’t get to wander any further.

In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit. 

As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson. 

Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud. 

Time stands still when your gaze lifts. 

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.

The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.

The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena. 

Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor. 

The world becomes red. 

A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute. 

When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you. 

With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet. 

His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist. 

A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask. 

"This is the part where you run, princess."

Right…

It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might. 

It’s the sensible thing to do. 

And you want to move. You should move. But you can't. 

Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead. 

All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement. 

The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest. 

His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse. 

Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular. 

Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest. 

The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.

A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife. 

His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush. 

Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.

He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork. 

This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends. 

Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow. 

You wait… An eternity it seems. 

For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness. 

Yet nothing comes. 

When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement. 

You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.

The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight. 

Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears. 

Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.

For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.

Because this cannot be real.

This cannot have happened. 

The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop. 

"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.

If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now. 

"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events. 

The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart. 

Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound. 

It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you. 

You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.

Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you. 

"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob. 

The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.

"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.

You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.

Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did. 

You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough. 

The thought makes you sob harder. 

Mindy rubs circles on your back. 

You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers. 

"Where’s Anika?"

"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."

You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened. 

Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog. 

"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?" 

You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.

You don’t get it. 

Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?

Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it. 

~

[screeblees]

Yandere ! Boss x Star Employee ! Reader in an Office Setting Headcannons

I haven’t posted in a bit but I’m back!! With Yandere! Boss and his headcanons!

Also answered an ask about Yandere! Boss here !

Though they are shorter than my Yandere! Friend headcanons (which can be found here !)

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!! <33

❥ Yandere ! Boss who is widely thought as as cold, calculated and completely work-orientated. He’s impossibly good at his job and expect nothing but the best from his lazy team of employees.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who was first drawn to this outstanding Employee ! Reader who went above and beyond for their job, working their hardest and staying overtime to finish all their work to the highest quality. You clearly wanted to impress him, how cute!

❥ Yandere ! Boss who was already a firm and involved in his employees’ work, made a point to be harsher on you in particular as he knew you could be even better than you currently are, having you redo work to better the quality and stay even later after hours. If this was an excuse to be alone in the office together, well, there’s no-one else around to say so.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who so-happened to assign you a desk in direct view of the blind-covered windows of their personal office. He’s just making sure their Star Employee won’t be distracted or interrupted as no other employee enjoyed going too close to the Boss’ office.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who enjoys watching your focused expressions as you work, knowing he are indirectly causing those frown lines between your brows.

❥ Star Employee ! Reader who just wants their cold, mean boss to like them. He’s so much harsher on you than your lazy coworkers who do the bare minimum and go out for drinks, why doesn’t your Boss get on at them?

❥ Yandere ! Boss who gifts you hints of his smile when your quality of work grows under his firm guiding hand. Pleased that you are reacting so well to his feedback, and wondering just how well you would do under his direct control.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who grows irritant at the sight of you taking one of your breaks to stand by the water cooler and chat with your coworkers instead of working through it in hopes of not needing to stay back after hours like you usually do. Although he must admit, he has learned much about you through eavesdropping on your conversations, though he remains irritated all the same.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who has read and reread your file and memorised it word for word, knowing your full name, date of birth, past employment, and most importantly; address.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who may or may not drive by your home on occasion (every other day), especially on your days off which so happen to coincide with his.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who only agrees to go out for a drink if he knows you’re going, which is usually only on special occasions such as a birthday or promotion, otherwise you’re stuck in the office for hours long after your official work day finishes (with said Boss).

❥ Yandere ! Boss who rewards you for your work and immense effort with subtle praises which he quickly learn is a very effect form of motivation for you and is more than happy to indulge when the quality of your work meets his impossibly high expectations (impossible for any of your coworkers, at least).

❥ Yandere ! Boss who’s attitude gradually warms towards you, even letting the odd flirty comment be said once work is done and dusted.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who usually despises office gossip, utterly revelling in the rumours surrounding the two of you and your long after-hours stays in the office. Maybe leaving suggestions for the other employees to see and draw ideas from.

❥ Yandere ! Boss who is very assertive, especially about his feelings towards you and what your limited options entail, meanwhile you are all too happy to listen to every word your beloved Boss says. He’s always right, after all.