#i always run to my bed the second i sense the sky getting dark
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kiss with a fist | chapter two.
masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: baby said by måneskin.
author's note: i'd apologize for the filth, but i'm not actually sorry and at this point you should expect it from me. enjoy theo's cheeky mouth. he singlehandedly started the sassy man revolution.
A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as soon as you walked into the potions lab. Buried deep in the dungeons, the room had always made you feel a bit claustrophobic. You were used to the airiness of Ravenclaw Tower with its twisting spires, starry glass domed ceiling, and four story bookshelves. You couldn’t even see the sky from this far below.
But you supposed that the Slytherins preferred their dark and dreary viper’s nest.
Speaking of serpents, Theo slinked into the classroom with his eyes half-closed, nearly running into the wall. His hair was a tousled mess like he’d just now rolled out of bed. The faded emerald hoodie and gray sweatpants he had haphazardly thrown on looked considerably more casual than your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt.
“You’re late,” you scolded sharply. “How are you late? You literally live here.”
“S’too bloody early.”
Theo yawned lazily as he settled into the seat beside you. He cocked his head, dragging his gaze up and down your body before flicking a stray lock that had fallen out of your braid crown. You always kept your hair up since prefect duties had you running around the castle for the majority of your day. This morning, it was even more prudent to tie it back since you would be working with volatile potions and an even more volatile boy.
“Are you always so prim and perfect?”
“Are you always so sloppy and underwhelming?”
Theo snickered, unfazed by the comment. “Someone’s grumpy this morning.”
“You would be too if you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to nick a muffin from the kitchens.”
The sad looking pastry sat between you, partially crushed from being hastily stuffed into your book bag after barely evading the house elves.
All that hard work disappeared before your eyes as Theo devoured the muffin in seconds. The bloody git had the audacity to swipe your thermos off the table and tipped its contents directly into his mouth, crumbs and all.
His face immediately contorted into disgust. “What in the bloody hell is this?”
“Pumpkin spice latte.”
“Pumpkin what?”
“It’s a muggle thing.”
“It’s an abomination, is what it is.”
You snatched the thermos back. “No one told you to drink it. Do you even know how long it took for me to collect enough instant coffee packets to last the whole term? And here you are wasting it.”
Theo looked properly scandalized. “Why on Godric’s green earth would anyone drink coffee from a packet? You don’t have one of those—what do you call them—expression machines?”
“Espresso,” you corrected. “No, Theodore, I do not have an espresso machine because that would require electricity, which doesn’t really fit this castle’s medieval aesthetic.” You paused. “How do you even know about those?”
“I’m half Italian. How would I not know about espresso?”
“You called it expression.”
“Yeah, well, my nonna doesn’t have all of her teeth so sorry for pronouncing things incorrectly. If you don’t like it, take it up with that crazy old strega.”
You fought the urge to laugh. The little anecdote would not distract you from the mission. “Right, if you’re quite done insulting my taste in coffee, we should get to brewing.”
“You don’t have taste in coffee. That’s the problem.” You glared at him, causing Theo to sigh deeply. “That was for my countrymen. Go on, then. Show me what you’ve got so far.”
Theo watched silently as you lit your cauldron with a flick of your wand. Between you floated your advanced potions textbook, turning its own pages as you carefully followed the recipe. It didn’t matter that the instructions were so ingrained in your mind that Luna said that she’d heard you muttering it in your sleep. You were still going to follow the bloody book like it was your first brew.
The ingredients were simple. A sprig of wormwood. Two crushed newt spleens. Three blood slugs diagonally sliced with surgical precision. Four ashwinder eggs grinded into a fine powder. Most importantly, five crushed petals from the Angel’s Trumpet flower, which the draught derived its name from. Bring to a gentle boil. Wait precisely twenty minutes. Stir counterclockwise. Then clockwise again.
“It’s clockwise and then counterclockwise,” Theo declared, speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour.
“The book says the opposite.”
“I know what the book says.”
You brandished the ash stirrer in your right hand like a wand. “This wouldn’t be some clever ploy to take out your academic rival, would it?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “First of all, I prefer nemesis. Second of all, you’re the one more inclined to violence out of the two of us. If anyone should fear for their life in this room, it would be me.”
“Fair point. But how are you so sure the instructions are wrong?”
“Because this has never failed me.”
With that, Theo pulled out a small book from his pocket. It expanded as he touched it, nearly taking up half the table. The book was old, ancient even, with a worn leather cover that you highly suspected to be made of dragonhide. The title glowed with an eerie silver light.
Il grimorio della famiglia Marchesi.
The grimoire of the Marchesi family.
“Marchesi?” you asked in disbelief. “As in, the Marchesis of Triora?”
The Marchesis were an ancient wizarding family that traced their ancestry back to the small Italian village of Triora. The city of witches, they called it. Their most notable ancestor was Alessandra Marchesi. The young strega was much changed by the witch trials that had swept over her sleepy town during her childhood, but instead of shunning muggle influence, Alessandra embraced their queer traditions and used it to her advantage.
She tracked the inventions of her non-wizard counterparts diligently and reverse engineered it for magical purposes. The pages of her grimoire were said to be filled with invaluable knowledge. Alessandra invented potions, charms, and even hexes that helped shape the wizarding world as you knew it today. Her ideas birthed a sort of magical renaissance in the strenghe community.
Under her leadership, the Marchesi family produced some of the most powerful witches and wizards not only in Italy, but Europe as a whole. Some of them had even attended Hogwarts and were unsurprisingly sorted in your house.
Alessandra Marchesi was a visionary like no other and a legend amongst the Ravenclaws. Any one of your housemates would have killed to lay eyes on her grimoire.
And here it was, propped casually in front of you.
In the hands of Theodore Nott, of all people.
You stared at the worn yellow pages, eyeing the elegant script with such intense scrutiny that you almost went cross eyed. The writing was in Italian, but that didn’t stop you from devouring every word.
“I can’t believe that I’m reading the Marchesi grimoire,” you muttered to yourself. “Written by the Alessandra Marchesi herself.”
“I’m flattered that you’re so interested in my family.”
“The fact that you’re even related baffles the mind.”
Theo rolled his eyes and pointed at the bottom right hand corner of the page. Senso orario. Antiorario.
You knew enough Italian to realize that Theo was right. “Is this how you’ve been first in potions all this time?”
He gasped dramatically. “Your lack of belief in my skills is highly offensive, but not entirely unexpected, diavolina. The grimoire is helpful, but my nonna only recently bestowed this little family heirloom to me this past holiday. I’m afraid that I’ve been beating you with my own talents for years.”
You didn’t know if that disturbed or comforted you.
“Why share it with me?” you asked.
If the roles were reversed, you certainly wouldn’t. The grimoire gave Theo an edge that he could’ve easily kept to himself. As a Ravenclaw, your first instinct was to guard and covet knowledge in order to climb the academic hierarchy. There was very little you wouldn’t do to secure first place. Perhaps you were more similar to the Slytherins in that way.
“I thought the nerd in you might appreciate it,” Theo teased. “Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I was cheating. When I beat you once and for all, I want you to know that I did so out of my own superior abilities.”
“You’re incredibly smug, do you know that?”
“I’m confident in my skills,” Theo said nonchalantly, plastering on that ever snarky smirk. “In and out of the potions lab, principessa.”
He winked, which made you roll your eyes. “Now let the expert show you how it’s done.”
You tensed slightly as Theo approached from behind. He chuckled as his chest brushed against your back, effectively caging you in. “Relax, diavolina. I have no plans to ravish you in this lab again. At least not until the potion is properly brewed.”
A shiver skittered down your spine as you actively fought the urge to arch against him. Stupid hormones. Thanks to your ill advised romps, your body reacted to Theo’s touch against your will. You gripped the stirrer so tightly that it was one squeeze away from breaking.
“Gently,” Theo murmured as his right hand enveloped yours. He rested his left hand against your hip, rubbing soothing circles underneath your cable knit sweater. The action had the opposite effect. If anything, a different sort of tension brewed between you.
“Senso orario,” he said, reciting the instructions from the grimoire. Theo slipped his fingers between yours and stirred clockwise. Suddenly, the room felt much hotter than it had a second ago.
You were keenly aware of his fingers lightly gripping your waist and for a horrible, nauseating moment, you imagined what it would be like to have him strip off your skirt and rip the wool tights off your legs so you could feel those rough, calloused hands against your bare thighs.
“Antiorario,” Theo said after ten stirs. You startled, sweat dripping off your back as he reversed your movements. The mixture bubbled gently the more you stirred.
“Shall I put it in?” His breath fanned over your neck, making you feel even more overheated than you already were.
“What?”
Theo’s lips twitched. “The petals. Shall I put them in or would you like to do the honors?”
“I’ve got it,” you said rather quickly.
In your haste, you swiped the crushed petals off of the cutting board and dropped them into the draught. In the back of your mind, the instructions that you had so diligently memorized flashed like some horrible omen. Drop the petals one by one. You realized your mistake just as Theo pulled you towards him, shielding you from the cauldron. The entire thing roiled violently before spewing magenta down the back of Theo’s hoodie.
You watched in horror as pepto bismol pink dripped from his curls. “I mean, I know you’d do anything to be first in class, but blowing me to bits is a bit severe, don’t you think?”
“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, turning him over. “Are you alright?”
The back of his hoodie looked like Theo had been involved in a rather violent skirmish with a cotton candy machine, but he appeared unharmed otherwise.
He smirked. “It’s touching that you care so much about my well-being. However disconcerting it may be.”
“You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me, you idiot. That could’ve been so much worse. I will not have your death on my conscience, Theodore.”
“Funny,” he said as he pulled his hoodie off. It raised the shirt underneath as well, giving you an unfortunate glimpse of his toned abs. “I wasn’t aware you even had a conscience.”
“Fuck,” you cursed, completely ignoring his quip. “The grimoire.”
For an excruciating moment, your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. If anything happened to the grimoire, you never would have forgiven yourself. Fortunately, there seemed to be a protection charm over the entire thing, because it appeared completely unblemished despite the geyser that had spewed out of the cauldron.
“Oh thank Godric.”
“That old thing’s got about a million protective charms on it that are older than either one of us,” Theo reassured you. “The grimoire is impervious to your violence. I, however, am not.”
“Sit,” you commanded, pointing to a stool. “I’ll clean you up.”
“I’m perfectly capable of casting scourgify.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be done with magic. Besides, I thought you’d jump at the chance to have me at your beck and call.”
“Fair point,” Theo said, settling into his seat. “I wouldn’t mind being fussed over.”
It took a few minutes for you to tidy up the mess on the table. Using magic would’ve been easier, but cleaning had always helped to clear your mind. Sometimes you spent an entire day scouring your dorm from top to bottom. Your housemates thought it was strange since a simple spell would’ve done the trick, but it was more a mental exercise than anything else.
When you cleaned, it felt like your mind was being refreshed. Clearing out old thoughts, polishing new ideas, vacuuming unpleasant memories. It was vital to your sanity. You and Luna had bonded over it during first year. She was the only one who was willing to roll her sleeves up and get her hands dirty. It reminded you of doing spring cleaning with your mum and dad, whom you missed dearly. You had never really been away from them for this long until you came to Hogwarts.
You suspected that Luna knew that the obsessive cleaning had more to do with your homesickness than anything else, but you always appreciated the fact that she never pushed you to talk unless you offered.
Despite what others might say, Luna was a stellar example of what a Ravenclaw should be. Clever, intuitive, and witty without all the pretentiousness that most of your housemates seemed to proudly parade around with.
You thought fondly of your friend, who just this morning shot you a knowing look as you slinked off to the dungeons before anyone else awoke.
Give my regards to Theodore, she said with a faint smile.
The suspect in question regarded you with mild curiosity as you approached with a washcloth and basin. Even seated on the stool, Theo towered over you. The back of his neck was splattered with bubblegum pink and it dotted the sharp line of his jaw and even the cut of his cheekbones.
Theo watched in silence as you wiped away the remnants of the failed draught. He wore a neutral expression, but his shoulders were tense and his eyes flickered over you like he was analyzing your every move.
“If you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could’ve just said so,” he teased with a slight smirk. “No need for the assassination attempt, Y/N.”
“Trust me, Theodore. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
“Such a charming little bird,” he taunted. “Does that line work on the boys back home?”
You raised a brow. That was the second time he’d brought the subject up. “Why do you ask? Jealous that I might be directing my feminine wiles on anyone other than you?”
Theo scoffed. “No one else would be able to deal with your sparkling personality, diavolina.” Something flickered in those stormy eyes as you gently dragged the washcloth over his cheek. “I’m just curious as to what you’ve been up to this holiday. Haven’t you wondered what I was doing?”
“Contrary to your egotistical belief, I don’t spend every waking moment thinking of you. Besides, I figured you’d be doing something stereotypically rich like sailing around the Amalfi Coast and hunting dolphins for sport.”
“As opposed to spending the entire break memorizing Slughorn’s personal recommendations so you can recite obscure potion knowledge in class?”
You flushed, not bothering to deny the fact. Theo smirked. “I thought Uni was supposed to be more exciting than that. Shouldn’t you be getting smashed at pubs and taking strangers home?”
“Not all of us can afford the distraction,” you said with an eye roll. “Or venereal diseases. Why the sudden interest, anyways? Don’t tell me that you’re planning on applying to Oxford. I don’t think I could handle another three years of you, Nott.”
He wrinkled his nose. “If I were to attend university, it sure as hell won’t be at Oxford.”
“Gods, you sound like one of those posh snobs from Cambridge.”
“Cambridge is a world-renowned university with an excellent magical division.”
Your eyes widened as you came to the realization. “Merlin’s beard, you are one of those Cambridge snobs, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Theo crossed his arms. “I’m not a posh snob.”
“Theodore, you live in a bloody manor. I hate to break it to you, but you definitely wouldn’t be considered blue collar.”
“I don’t live there anymore. Not since…” Not since my father was sentenced to Azkaban for being one of the Dark Lord’s top Death Eaters.
“Right,” you said rather quickly. “Sorry—I—didn’t mean to—”
Theo patted your hand and grinned. “Oh don’t look so distressed, Y/N. I assure you I’m not living in squalor. Despite my father’s imprisonment, the ministry was kind enough to allow me to keep a flat in London.” You noted the hint of bitterness in his voice. “Though if you ask my nonna, she’d tell you that an Azkaban sentence would be preferable to the dreary English weather.”
That made you smile a bit. “I suppose the rain and muck is rather offensive to someone who’s used to the Italian sunshine.”
“You have no idea,” Theo muttered. “You’d think I dragged her to the States instead of Primrose Hill.”
“Primrose Hill?” You asked, scrunching your brows. “I don’t remember there being a wizarding neighborhood there.”
“There’s not,” Theo confirmed. “And I quite prefer it that way.”
There was an edge to his voice that told you not to press further.
“So, I gather that you and your nonna are close?”
“More like I’m the only grandchild that hasn’t disappointed her so far. Hence the grimoire.”
“Is Cambridge her idea or yours? I heard that they have an excellent Potions program. Second to Oxford, of course.”
The corner of Theo’s mouth quirked. “My mother’s, actually.”
You knew that his mother had passed when he was young. Not much was known about the circumstances of her death, but it was assumed that Theo had witnessed it since he was one of the few students that were able to see the thestrals.
“After she graduated from Hogwarts, mum went on to study potions at Cambridge. She used to take me to campus during her alumni events. One time I begged her to buy me a jumper from the stores and I wore that damned thing down to its last thread.”
There was a faraway expression on his face as he glanced out of the dungeon windows. The sunlight was barely starting to spear through the Black Lake, spreading a mosaic of colors across the potions lab. Theo looked contemplative. Pensive, almost.
On the surface, his playful nature was very much on display, but somewhere deep within, you could see a hint of sadness bleeding through. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment. Witnessing something that you weren’t supposed to see.
It was highly unnerving to say the least, so you deflected. “You know, Oxford and Cambridge have a deep seethed rivalry. It would be sort of poetic for us to end up on opposing sides again.”
For a split second, Theo appeared to be analyzing you like some undecipherable code. Like he knew you were giving him an out. The scrutiny in his gaze unnerved you. Then his expression changed, that familiar smirk falling firmly back in place. He slipped on that cocky arrogance like a mask.
You wondered how many times he’s done it without you even noticing.
“More poetic than reenacting the very first detention that led us here?”
Without meaning to, you glanced at the supply closet in the back of the room. Nearly a year ago, the two of you had been arguing about the best way to organize the crate of vials Snape had left for you when you finally pushed Theo against the wall and kissed him in order to shut him up.
You swallowed thickly just as Theo’s slender fingers curved around the back of your thighs. The barrier of your wool tights suddenly felt oppressive even though you’d worn them for warmth.
“What happened to not ravishing me until a successful brew?”
“Seeing as you’re entirely hopeless, we might be brewing for the remainder of the day,” Theo said as he pulled you against him. His lips ghosted against the column of your throat, smiling when he felt you shiver underneath him. “And I don’t think I can wait that long without a taste.”
“What if I say no?” you quipped.
He pressed soft kisses along your jaw in response. “That may be an even bigger miracle than you brewing the damn draught, but go ahead, little bird. I’d love to see you try.”
The two of you stared at one another. You were going to cave. Theo knew it. You knew it. If you were capable of saying no to the insufferable git, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Finally, you sighed.
“Fuck it.”
You pressed your lips against his, nearly toppling him over on the stool. He groaned against your mouth, walking you backwards to the supply closet. Theo lifted you up with ease and secured your legs around his waist, clearing the room in less than a minute.
A smirk tugged at your lips when he briefly pulled away to nip at your neck. “What?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your skin.
“You taste like pumpkin spice.”
There was nothing but pure hunger in his gaze as Theo nudged the door open with his foot. He set you down against a wooden slab before kneeling between your legs.
You shivered when those hypnotizing eyes flickered back up to you.
“Don’t worry, diavolina. I’ll taste like you soon enough.”
If someone held you at wand point and forced you to say one nice thing about Theodore, it would be that the boy knew how to eat pussy. He probably authored the manual on it. Nott did things with his tongue that defied the very laws of nature.
You whimpered as he flicked his tongue over your clit, circling not once but twice before lapping up your arousal like a man starved. When his slender fingers joined the mix, you could’ve sworn that you’d transcended reality all together. Theo remained transfixed on you even as he brought you closer to the edge, his forearm keeping your hips pinned down to keep you from arching against his mouth.
“Louder, principessa. I want to hear those pretty little moans when I make you come.”
The sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. “Oh god, oh my fucking god—“
“You can just call me Theo, you know.”
You laughed hoarsely as you pulled his hair. “Twat.”
“Oh, I’m quite enjoying yours at the moment.”
Whatever retort forming in your mind died on your tongue as his fingers curled inside of you, touching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. The orgasm was a blinding light, an exploding supernova that incinerated your nerves as Theo brought you to the edge. When you came with a cry, he gave your clit a harsh suck and crooked his fingers until you felt overstimulated. Theo had no intention of slowing down even as you spasmed underneath his touch.
“You didn’t think that was it, did you?” Theo teased, his mouth glistening with your arousal. “We’re just getting started, darling. I went a whole summer without tasting you and I’m warning you now. I’m fucking ravenous.”
“I can’t—I can’t take any more, please.”
He chuckled darkly. “I do love it when you beg, but I know you can take more. I’ve seen you do it. I want your legs to shake so badly that you won’t even be able to stand before I’m done with you, diavolina. Then and only then will I consider stopping. Do you understand?”
Your throat felt dry, but you nodded all the same. “You’re a sadist, Nott.”
“And you’re my little masochist," he said, smirking between your thighs. Danger flashed in those watercolor eyes. Theo was far from finished with you. "What a twisted pair we make.”
A shiver skittered down your spine as he yanked your hips towards him. “Now be a good little witch and spread those legs wide, dolcezza. We’re about to find out how many licks it takes to make a Ravenclaw scream.”
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#ugh he's so filthy i love him so much#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott smut#theo nott fic#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theo nott x you#theo nott fluff#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott smut#theodore nott imagine
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faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.
You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him.
He hadn't tried to contact you.
You didn't blame him.
However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.
A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."
"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.
"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."
'Have a good day.'
You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.
The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.
Charles's car was gone.
"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.
You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"
"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"
"No!"
"Yes."
They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.
God, word spread fast.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.
"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.
"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"
As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.
"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.
'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.
"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall.
He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen.
"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken.
"Explain..."
"Yes-"
"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.
"Charles I-"
"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"
"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.
"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.
"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"
"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.
"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.
"You told Lando,"
"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"
"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"
"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.
"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.
You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears.
As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.
You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."
"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"
You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."
He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"
You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.
"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"
"What?" you croaked.
Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."
You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."
"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.
"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.
"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.
"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.
You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
#storms library#formula 1#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#f1#faceless driver trend#fanfiction
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Lapses
Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader
Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.
Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).
Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)
Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)
Notes: :)
-¤°》◇《°¤-
Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.
And falling.
And falling.
I don't know when I wake up.
The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.
He smiled at me from across the room.
Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.
"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.
Smiled.
Why is he smiling?
Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.
"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."
He left on an errand.
"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"
He's coming back.
"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."
He's coming back.
"You don't have anything?"
He's coming back.
"I don't have anything."
What are you supposed to do after a death?
There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?
There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.
"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."
First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.
"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."
I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?
He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.
He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.
"Whatcha watching?"
Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.
"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"
"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."
"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.
Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.
"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"
I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.
"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."
Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.
But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?
"What does he do on the errands?"
"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."
I never wanted to know.
Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.
"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.
"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"
"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.
Did you know that I love the color blue?
No.
Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.
You with blue hair? You're full of shit.
No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?
I imagine It'd look co-
Ld.
It's cold.
It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.
The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.
"I may have to go away for a little bit."
They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.
I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.
When I was a child, I liked small spaces
Yeah?
"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.
A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.
"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.
"Why don't you go to church?"
"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.
"God won't judge you."
Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.
I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.
Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.
"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.
"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."
"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."
I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.
We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.
"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.
"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."
We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.
"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."
I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once' before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?
But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.
"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.
"Because I was stupid?" I ask.
"Because you were sweet," he said.
There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.
"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.
What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.
"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.
And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.
“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,” says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.
He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.
"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.
"It's fine," I said.
He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.
"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.
"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.
"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."
"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.
"Baby, I don't know-"
"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"
There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.
"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."
His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.
They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.
He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.
It's so cold.
"You know, today would've been our anniversary?"
Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”
I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.
We were too busy dancing to notice.
▪︎》◇《▪︎
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@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
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#Spotify#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#josh hutcherson x you#jhutch#billy burn 2019#billy josh hutcherson#billy burn imagine#billy x reader#billy burn#burn movie 2019#burn 2019#josh hutcherson burn#hurt/no comfort
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MDNI | Ghost x Reader
“He’s Still Grieving.”
Life could be so unexpected. So empty. So cruel.
Full of all the ‘what if’s.’
Delicate rainfall descends from the heavens above, muting the outside world. Ghost overlooks the streets of London from inside of his flat with exhaustive eyes, twirling a whirlpool in his glass of bourbon.
“Drinking again?” You berated with concern, watching as he drowns his sorrows in alcohol.
“I got a lot on my mind.” He mumbled.
His drinking became a nightly ritual, numbing the shame and guilt that loomed over like the grey clouds in the night sky. Letting out a defeated sigh, Ghost shuts his eyes, listening to how your soft voice blends almost perfectly with the rain.
“You know, I hate when you go on a binge like this.”
Sensing his distress, you step closer, reaching out to embrace Ghost from behind. Yet, his body only tenses more underneath your touch.
“Talk to me, my love. Is it work?”
Your innocent question curls a faint smile on Ghost’s lips.
After a passing beat, he lets out a quiet laugh.
“You were always a thorn in my ass.”
“Just a thorn? I aim to be an entire cactus.” You remarked with a chuckle, taking the glass from his hands and gently setting it down on the nightstand beside the guest’s bed.
For a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. Then the sweet smile on your face fades as your brows furrow in deep thought.
“Are you ever going to move back into our bedroom?” You ask in a thin sounding tone.
Ghost’s frowns deeply, fighting to keep a handle on his composure. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the bedroom. Waking up next to you every morning, holding you close and kissing you whenever he pleases.
“No, not after what happened.” Ghost said firmly, ignoring the tightening in his throat.
Turning from the window, your head briefly sinks between your shoulders as he brushes past you, neither of you capable to meet each other’s gaze. Your heart squeezed painfully, knowing how much pain he was in, how much he lost then and now.
“I don’t blame you, Simon.” You say just before he leaves the room.
Ghost frozen in his tracks. Hearing his name leave your mouth with such ease broke the last shred of self-control. Spinning around, your heart races when Ghost charges at you in two large strides with self-loathing tears streaming down his face as he finally releases all his pent up emotions.
“You don’t get to say that, you’re not even real, Y/N! You’re fucking dead and it’s all my fault. I could’ve saved you, just like everyone fucking else in my life. But, no! I let my entire family down, I let Johnny down…now, I let you down.”
Choking back a sob, Ghost collapses on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands with the memories of the day he lost you flood back in.
The pitch from the sirens embedded within the walls of your home along with the sight of EMT’s worked vigorously to resuscitate you.
Every second matters.
Was the last thing the doctor said to Ghost before rushing you off for emergency surgery. 30 minutes later, you passed away from the brain aneurysm.
Since then, the man you loved so dearly deteriorated into nothing but a hallow shell with the only way of coping is searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle.
Little by little, the grief ate away at what was left of his sanity and the apparition of you began haunting him.
“I just miss you, Y/N…I miss you so much.” Ghost’s voice broke, dropping his hands from his face.
When Ghost looked at you, his brows scrunched as he saw the look of your face. In your eyes, Ghost saw the final farewell. The realization hit painfully as he jumped to his feet with woeful expression.
“No, please I’m not ready to let you go.” He pleaded as you held a bittersweet smile on your face, your own tears running along your flushed cheeks.
“I know and I’m sorry, my love. But, this is for the best. I need you to get better and stay strong for us. Okay?”
“Us?”
“Yeah, L.T. All of us.”
Ghost whips around with bulging eyes when he hears a familiar voice come from behind him.
On the other side of the room stood, Tommy with an arm around Beth, his mother, who was holding Joseph and Soap.
All of them looked as happy and healthy as Ghost last remembered.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, LT.” Johnny and Tommy chuckle at the bewildered look plastered on Ghost’s face.
“No matter what happens, we’re always going to be here for you, Sweetheart. And we’re so proud of the man you’ve become.” His eyes pull towards his mother’s soothing voice, then circles back towards you.
“It’ll be okay, Simon. Think of this as a ‘See you next time’ rather than a ‘Goodbye.’” You reassured Ghost as your hand swiftly cups his stubbled cheek.
Leaning into your touch one last time, Ghost silently accepted that it was time to let go. With a heavy heart, he whispers out his promise.
“I’ll do better, okay. Just…please don’t be a stranger.”
You give him a simple nod, then cradled him into your arms as he clung onto you for the last time. Ghost nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, smothering back the occasional sniffles.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
Pulling away from each other, Soap’s hand slams down on the back of Ghost’s neck, joshing him around a bit.
“It’ll be okay, L.T. No need for the water works. I thought you told me you had a cold heart.” He teases, livening up the air, evoking a light chuckle from everyone. Soap leans closer, keeping his tone low and assuring, his baby blue eyes full of understanding. “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll take care of them all.”
Ghost nods thankfully as he pulled away from you completely, wiping away the tears to take in everyone’s smiling faces before finally fading away, leaving Ghost alone once more.
This time the room felt emptier.
However, Ghost had to do one last thing before he could finally move on.
His legs carried himself out the guest room, in the living room, there was a shelf where your urn occupied and right next to it was a sliver key. As he took ahold of the key, Ghost hand caresses you urn with a sentimental smile. He then strolled over, unlocking and entering the master bedroom.
“Hey there, beautiful…”
#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty fanfic#mw2 imagine#spotify#angst#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghostsoap
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Whatever She Wants; I Will Do Anything - E.M.
Eddie x fem reader
2.9K Words
Inspired by the song Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers.
Or where you’re very good at keeping your guard up and not letting others in only to crumble under the pressure. And Eddie is there to help you put the pieces back together.
Warnings - angsty, depictions of mental illness, dark thoughts
A/N - This shit is emotional and this song has been stuck in my head for days so I had to do something with it. Any feedback is appreciated 🥹
Masterlist
—
I would do anything you want me to
I would do anything for you
I would do anything, I would do anything
Whatever you want me to do, I will do
—
If you could pick the scenery to describe your own brain, it wouldn’t be a field of daisies, fresh and heavenly, or rainbows after a light summer rain, sticky but romanticized. It wouldn’t be angelic beach views with sunsets marbling the sky or even the starry night with the moon soaking the earth in its celestial light. No, these things were magnificent, pleasing to look at, easy to take in. Very unlike your brain.
Your idea would be more of a tsunami ripping everything apart, having no mercy on anything in its wake—destroying everything it touches. Emotions receding into the sea quietly before ultimately coming back in a massive wave and disrupting the quaint living of those around. Murky skies and shattered hope. People running, and running far just to avoid the disaster—the impending doom that was you. That is exactly how you’d describe your brain.
Sometimes if you were lucky there were a select few weeks in between the storms of your mind where you’d feel a sliver of relief, a drought in the ever flowing thoughts that dismantled your life. Times where there would be a glimmer of ambition and an inkling of motivation. It never lasted long, fleeing as soon as you were starting to get better. A colossal wave consuming you once again, and people would go running as they always did—the commotion of the storm too turbulent for them to brave.
And the agonizing thoughts would begin to stew at the very core of your brain. Simmering until they boiled over at random.
Too hard to love.
Useless.
Worthless.
Barely a person, a walking corpse devoid of emotion due to the burnout.
Not worthy of love.
Not worthy of anything.
I should have never even made it this far, sixteen years was my limit.
I don’t want to do this anymore, please don’t make me do this anymore.
It was all so daunting, so intimidating and heavy. It truly felt like you did not belong on this earth and there was absolutely no way to combat it other than merely surviving. Days passed and you were trapped in the endless cycle that was existing without purpose.
Your boyfriend, Eddie, sweet Eddie had a life to live and you couldn’t bear to burden him with the sorrows of your aching soul. Eventually he’d realize what a nuisance you were, how crippling your state of mind could be. He didn’t deserve to be detained by the relationship you so thought was out of pity. Ever so generous, kind, enamoring, handsome, loving, gentle, loud, assertive—everything Eddie was made of, was something you believed you never once deserved. You dreaded the day he would glance at you and come to his senses. She is too broken for me, I can’t love her.
The convincing mask you were able to automatically put on was all too familiar. Being able to physically front that you were happy when the reality of it all was that demons swam through your bloodstream and never left, only lying dormant every once in a blue moon only to come back at full force. It felt like poison, the way you would be okay one moment and suddenly in seconds you were grasping onto your sanity, clinging onto any bits of reality—of your mortal self only to be swallowed up by harsh accusations toward yourself that would have you sinking back into your bed for as long as it required. And that’s how you got so good with the mask, forcing yourself to conform to the world around you when you absolutely couldn’t rot in bed, other obligations taking priority despite the poison coursing through your body. A smile on your face, a compliment here, a joke there, sprinkled with some stupid story from the other day that always seemed to appease your audience. It was all fake and no one could sniff it out.
Until Eddie came along and he was able to detect even the slightest shift in your demeanor. Though you could throw the mask on, it didn’t always work with him and he would encourage you to take it off. You never did. Insisting I’m fine, just a little tired. Lying through your teeth. You couldn’t help it, you’d never let your guard down with anyone ever. How were you supposed to when it didn’t even feel like an option? A people pleaser to your core, you’d take your feelings with you to the grave.
The first time Eddie stumbled upon you crying, he was at a loss, not knowing how to approach the situation. Do I hug her? No, what if she doesn’t want me to? Do I hold her hand? Does she want me to leave? Did I do something? What if I made her cry? Does she want to break up? Every thought flew at him at lightning speed, practically slapping him in the face. Before any decision could be made, you sucked back the tears and used your sleeves to aggressively clear your under eyes. I’m fine, I just watched an emotional movie. Lies. Not wanting to push you further, he nodded and held you close. But he knew. You were suffering, drowning in your own fucked up world and he had no idea how to pull you out. When his own mind started suffocating him he could at least voice that he wasn’t having the best day, also being the type to never burden others with his invading thoughts. He’d leave it at that and sulk in his room but you would always sit with him, if he allowed. If not, that was okay too and he was eternally grateful.
The more he studied your behavior when you just felt off, the more he gathered the way you would often go blank during a conversation, eyes becoming void of a human and turning into a shell of yourself as you picked yourself apart internally. Anxiety looming in your eyes and hands the slightest bit shaky, he would touch his fingertips to yours in the smallest touch hoping to lure you back, praying that he didn’t overstep because god he was so scared. And when you did return, you still weren’t fully there although you claimed you were just tired. Again. He just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy.
It took almost a year into the relationship for you to even be able to ask him to come over when you wanted to just be with him. Before that it just felt like you were pestering him for attention even though that was far from the truth. You could call him just to complain about how your lunch tasted and he would savor every moment. Even still, you had your doubts about calling him or texting him, the nasty demons lurking within you telling you he didn’t care. Eddie picked up on your patterns from the very beginning and learned that the way you worded things really indicated your mood, if you were genuinely doing well or if things were bad again. A simple phrase popping up on his phone and he would bolt to you if he had the slightest inclination that you were in a pool of your own self deprecating thoughts.
Are you home? Really meant, I need you, I need you and I’m too afraid to outright say it.
Are you busy? Either meant that you wanted to go on a gas station run with him or that you wanted to vent about your family.
Want to come over? Generally translated to I’m in a good space right now and would love to spend time with you.
I love you. Told him I’m thinking about you.
Love you. Was an indicator that you were on edge, it could be because of him depending on the nature of the situation or it could just be a bad day.
Food? Was the phrase used to tell him I’m hangry and we better be getting Mexican food otherwise you better suggest something that sounds yummier.
I’m fine. Was as clear as day. I’m the opposite of fine.
So when it’s ten o’ clock at night and the cicadas are chirping outside his trailer, his fingers dancing along the neck of his guitar to a new riff he recently learned and he sees his phone light up with your name, he eagerly reaches over to pick it up and read. His eyes scan over three key words.
Are you home?
Immediately he’s setting his guitar on top of his mattress, calling you as he scrambles around his room searching for his car keys, finally locating them underneath his copy of Lord of the Rings he had been rereading earlier, tossing the book aside. The dial tone rings through his ears a few times, heart beating fast. On the other end, a meek little hey is heard along with a sniffle that you swore you would hide.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern while he makes his way out to the living room to collect his leather jacket.
“I-I-nothing. I just—wanted to hear your voice.” Part of it is a lie. Everything is wrong and your world is crumbling as you stare out the window lifelessly. Panic is taking over while you endure thoughts about your past, present, and future. Why did I say that one thing that one time? I’m such a bad person. I should have never been born, that way I could save everyone the embarrassment. You’re instigating yourself and there’s no sign of stopping. Eddie would be happier without you, he’s too good for you, good things don’t happen to you without a price. Bullet after bullet hits your soul.
“I’m coming over.” He tells you without giving you the option to say no, the line going silent as he hangs up. This only coaxes more humiliating things out from the depths of your brain. See what you did? You ruined his night, now he’s on his way over and he’s probably so mad. He has so many better things to be doing than sitting with a cry baby.
The sobs rack your body, chest heaving and vision completely blurred with hot tears traveling down your face. You’re shaking, the words assaulting you over and over. Even if you wanted to stop crying you couldn’t, the dam was flooded. It was an oversight on your part, you didn’t need to text Eddie but you did it out of impulse. Everything suddenly becomes so overstimulating, so gross and uncomfortable. The way your clothes hug your body makes you wince, rubbing your arms to somewhat soothe yourself but it only does so much. The clutter on your bedside table aggravates you all of the sudden but there’s not any energy to straighten it up, leaving you sitting on the bed in full on breakdown mode. You’re now way too aware of your own body, yearning to immediately cease existing. A blanket once thrown over your legs is now tossed across the room, the material now disgusting you. Everything becomes unbearable.
So unbearable that you don’t even hear Eddie using his key in your front door, the hinges squeaking as he enters, or the click of the lock as he locks it again before rushing upstairs, his boots stomping on every other step. You don’t hear the bedroom door creak open as he carefully approaches, toeing off his boots near the door and then speaking to you.
“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” His tone is gentle enough to soothe a baby. Shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on a nearby chair, he slowly strides closer to the bed but still keeps his distance.
All you can do is cover your face in your pathetic palms, attempting to hide away the misery you have become. A wet and whimpered I don’t know is made out from you muffling the words into your hands. His heart shatters. All he wants to do is hold you but only if you’ll allow him to. The last thing he wants to do is make it worse. The last time he saw you cry was also the first time and you’d sucked it up and brushed it off like it never happened. This was drastically different, you were a puddle of tears and snot, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to hold back any longer.
“Baby. Look at me. Just for a minute, okay?” He’s trying to convince you but you shake your head, palms still gathering tears. “Please? Please?” He begs, voice hoarse as he tries to map out a gameplan in his head. It still falls upon deaf ears. “I need you to look at me. If I’m going to help you, you need to look at me.” He leans over the bed attempting to catch your eyes. “I need you.” He speaks desperately, his own eyes becoming wet. For some reason, the phrase makes you stop for a second, makes you freeze. If he needed you, then you were going to give him anything he wanted, anything he needed. It was some type of reverse psychology that he hadn’t even realized he performed. You were falling apart but the moment he begged for help you stopped everything to be by his side.
Shock written in his features, he looks at you while you look at him, big doe eyes full of anxiety and worry. The atmosphere was stagnant at that moment. Hiccups erupted out of you but your full undivided attention was on him. He pondered his next moves carefully, not wanting to scare you off or chase you back into your corner. His next words were spoken with the utmost care.
“Tell me what you need me to do.” His voice was shaky and his eyes blinked rapidly. “I—I’ve never done this before. Please tell me what you need.” His voice wobbled on the last few words as you tried to process everything. “Whatever you want me to do, I will do.” The way his tone wavered broke you, choking out a sob before stopping yourself. You did this to him. So you force yourself to provide an answer, it’s the least you could do.
Voice cracking, you reply “Hold me.” The dam continues flooding, sending a river down your cheeks. He’s quick to crawl across the bed and gather you in his arms like the most fragile thing he’s ever held. Arms wrap around your middle to pull you in between his legs, pulling your back flush against his chest as you then maneuver your body to curl into him like he’s your bunker, face buried in his chest and trembling hands fisting his shirt.
“I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’m here.” Whispered reassurances against the top of your head as you soak his shirt in a mixture of tears and snot. He lets you cry for as long as you need, as long as you want.
“I’m always here for you. Okay? I would do anything for you.” He promises, stroking your back soothingly, placing a kiss to your temple. Everything about you is so ugly in the moment and yet, he’s so patient and warm. So attentive and loving. His gestures begin to chip at the walls you built around yourself so long ago. It would take time but he’s made the first cracks in those sturdy walls and he would spend forever helping you tear them down.
The sobs and hiccups begin to settle down, not completely but enough that you have some composure. Your wide eyes stare into his kind ones. You’re forced to recognize the unconditional love swimming in his eyes. The genuine concern for your well being and his necessity for your comfort and happiness.
“I love you.” An offer through your tears of that same love on a silver platter that he would gladly indulge in. Hand brushing against the bottom of your chin, tilting it ever so slightly while the other rests on the small of your back, he delivers a nudge of his nose against yours, a piece of his heart.
“I love you. I will always love you.” His words have a greater meaning, an oath that even through the bad times, the times where you were isolated and hated yourself, kicking yourself to the curb, he would be right there to help you back up. A brush of his thumb against a rogue tear on your cheek has you hanging onto his every action. The way he continues to use his thumbs to clean up any remnants of sadness that had been acquired over the last hour or so. How his lips curl up in fondness when you brush your fingertips along his stubbly cheek. A whispered thank you against his skin. When he lays back and pulls you onto his chest, his breathing lulling you into a post cry sleep that you very well needed, one hand running up and down your back and the other tracing shapes into your arm—calloused fingers providing every bit of comfort needed. How his lips press a kiss to your forehead. The scary thoughts were at bay for now and Eddie would without a doubt help you to battle them the next time they invaded your mind, whether it be tomorrow or next week. His words have you melting, insides gooey and sticky when he thinks you’re fast asleep but you’re really still clinging onto these last waking moments as you mold into each other.
“You’re everything I could ever ask for. I would do anything for you.”
~end~
Masterlist
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson smut#eddie x reader#vics blurbs#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x female reader
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Could i ask for scenario 22 with Donnie having to stay at the reader's house, and he also said the 27th pink prompt? Maybe it's implied they both have feelings for each other?
Storms and sleepovers (rottmnt Donnie x reader)
scenario 22: There’s a big storm going on outside while A is at B’s house, so B insists they sleep over.
prompt 27: “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”
summary: Donnie offers to braid reader’s hair after he sleeps over because of a storm.
relationship: Rise!Donnie x GN reader
warnings: fluff, reader has long hair!
word count: ~930
A/N: ugh i always end up all mushy when writing soft donnie 🥺 also i made them a couple but still fresh, so they’re still shy. hope you like it!
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
– – –
Donnie had initially come over to your place to show you one of his latest inventions. You were his beta tester for a lot of his (less dangerous) contraptions, and he valued your feedback. So of course he wanted you to test this one out as well and give him your review as usual. That day your schedule was packed though and didn’t really allow you to go to the sewers as it would be late already, so you decided it would be quicker if he came to your place instead.
After testing out the invention and giving him your honest review while he took notes on his pad, you walked to the window while he packed up his things. In the warmth of your apartment you hadn't even noticed how stormy it was outside. It was pouring heavily, the clouds dark and dangerous, hanging low in the sky. You could hear the thunder in the distance, getting louder as the time between lighting and thunder shortened with every strike.
You turned around to look at Donnie putting the last of his things in the duffel bag, closing the zipper. It wouldn’t be right to have him walk home in this storm. You had been dating for a couple of weeks now; it wouldn’t be weird to ask him to sleep here, right?
Donnie could sense your lingering look and tilted his head slightly, silently asking to speak your mind.
“It’s super harsh outside right now. Why don’t you just stay the night?” you asked, and he stood next to you to look out the window with a frown given the state of the flooding streets.
“I’ll take you up on that offer, thanks.” he simply replied.
You went to your room to get some extra blankets and pillows, and he stood in the doorframe.
“I can take the couch-” he started, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.
“No” you interrupted him, and he looked taken aback for a second. “We can both fit here” you explained, looking at your twin bed with a light blush, hugging the blanket you were holding a little closer to your chest. You really hoped you weren’t crossing a line with your comment and glanced back at him to gauge his reaction. He simply nodded ‘okay’, sheepishly scratching his neck, and left the room to let you change.
Once you were in your PJs and he had taken off his battle shell, you both sat on the bed, not quite tired enough to sleep just yet. The way your heart was pounding in your chest you wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep anytime soon anyways.
For a moment you just looked at each other in the darkness of your room, only illuminated by the streetlights outside your window, and the little night light on your nightstand. As you undid the bun on your head, your hair cascading onto your shoulders, a lighting hit again. The light cast a sharp light from behind you for a split second, and Donnie found himself entranced at the sight, the image burned into his retinas.
As your hair fell into your face, you blew it away with a huff, but it fell back, so you reached up to move away the annoying strand. But before your hand could reach it, Donnie’s found it first, brushing the hair behind your ear, then running his fingers through your hair, relishing in how soft and silky it felt against his skin.
You had never seen him make such a face; even in the dim light you could make out the small smile and the soft, loving look in his eyes. Your breath hitched when his hand moved through your hair at the nape of your neck and you didn’t dare move, afraid of bursting the little bubble around you two in that moment. Seemingly lost in thought, Donnie spoke softly.
“I can braid your hair for you” he blurted out and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I mean, only if you want.” He pulled back his hand and you immediately missed his touch. You didn’t even know he knew how to braid hair. You were delighted at the idea and agreed with a smile.
Scooting over and turning around so you were sitting between his legs, you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him onto your back. After telling him there were some hair ties in the first drawer of your nightstand, you both sat in silence, just enjoying each others’ presence as he worked through your hair, ending up in two braids that sat low on your head so they wouldn’t bother you when you lied down. They weren’t perfectly symmetrical but in Donnie’s mind they looked good enough for his first try. Truth is, he had looked up a tutorial on YouTube earlier that week and practiced on some yarn, because he had noticed how you’d often shake your head or blow little huffs sideways to get the hair out of your face. He smiled to himself remembering the faces you make with those sideways blows; they were comically endearing.
Once he announced he was done with the braids and admired his handiwork, you carefully ran your hands over the braids, humming in approval. Suddenly his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you back onto the bed with him, turning you both to the side so he was spooning you from behind.
You thanked Donnie for the braids, and with a yawn you told him that he was free to stay over more often.
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @lovelylovelydreams, @o0-starboy-0o
#goose feathers#500 goslings event#rottmnt#save rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#donatello x reader#rise of the tmnt#rise of the tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader
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Strangers (Chapter Ten)
Strangers from Hell AU
Series Masterlist
pairing: ot7 x reader
genre: yandere, horror/thriller
word count: 6.7k
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!): unreliable narrator, murder, mature themes, minor character death, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, bullying, violence against women, blood and injuries, mc has some self-deprecating thoughts, mc is lowkey in denial.
The day stretched on for what felt like hours but in reality was only about two before the sun had finally begun to set. The weather had been so weird, bright and sunny despite the dark clouds looming in the background. Something told you that the storm you sensed coming previously was finally about to arrive - just in time, too.
You had stared out the window of the hotel as Nayeon paced on the floor in front of the bed. She had been mumbling things here and there, reaching for her phone a few times before ultimately changing her mind. She didn’t like to be out of control of the situation, that much you could tell. You had never seen your best friend so stressed - not even during exam week - and you have to admit you didn’t like it. She had always been so sure of herself for as long as you had known her. If anything, this just emphasized the seriousness of the situation.
You’re sure you probably looked too blasé about the situation, a blank expression on your face as you rested your head on your knees. The truth was you just felt numb, having gone through so many emotions these past days already. This past month had taken a tremendous toll on you, the lack of sleep and stress finally catching up to you. You had no idea what the outcome would be after tonight but you found it hard to care. Jail almost sounded better than whatever awaited you both at the residence, but you weren’t exactly ready to go running to the police station right now anyway. Besides, you didn’t want to find out what Namjoon would do if you went against his wishes.
“Fuck it, I’m calling them.” Nayeon finally broke, picking her phone up off the bed and swiping at it.
“Who?”
“Who do you think?”
“You can’t... you heard what he said.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, eyes fixed on the swirly patterns of the comforter.
“So what, we just go in there completely defenseless? This feels like a trap.” She argued, but you noticed that she had stopped typing as she stared at you. “What if he’s lying and Jihoon’s already gone? Do you think they killed him?”
“I don’t know.” Her face crumbled a bit, forehead creasing in worry. “I think I have an idea, though. It might be risky but it feels like the safest option. Give me my phone.”
She handed it to you wordlessly, watching as you searched for a number. It only took you a few seconds before the message was sent and you pocketed the device. She raised her eyebrows at you, “Well?”
“I met this detective a little while ago who had been looking into the case of a missing woman that used to live at the residence. I didn’t say who or where it was but I figured sending that picture would at least raise some suspicion. Plus, it’s more discreet than just calling the cops.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“No clue but at least now someone else knows.” Glancing back at the darkening sky, you sighed as you moved to stand up. “We should get going.”
“Are you sure?” You had never seen Nayeon look so unsure of anything. This was a beast she didn’t know how to defeat.
“What other choice do we have?”
*****
The storm had descended upon you fast, rain making it hard to see for the taxi driver as he weaved through the streets. You and Nayeon sat in the backseat completely silent, your driver seeming to pick up on the mood as he didn’t bother to make small talk. When you finally arrived at your destination, you could only stare up at the distorted view of the residence. You didn’t think you would be back here so soon and the feeling upon seeing it was difficult to pinpoint.
Nayeon scooted over and gave you a little shove, signaling for you to get out. You opened the door and were instantly flooded with wet droplets, the sound of them hitting the pavement canceling out any other noise. You didn’t turn to see if she had followed you, running into the building for cover.
Once the both of you had made it inside, you looked down to see how utterly drenched your clothes were despite only being outside for a few seconds. The fabric stuck to your body uncomfortably and you pulled your shirt away from your skin to air it out as best you could.
Making for the stairs, a strange sense of deja vu came over you to when you had brought Jihoon here. You didn’t even want to look at Nayeon’s face, scared to see her signature judgemental look upon seeing your residence for the first time. In your peripheral vision, you could see her wide eyes checking out the place cautiously. She remained silent next to you, seemingly on high alert.
The hallway was empty and upon checking the front receptionist window, so was Jimin’s room. You led Nayeon down the hall slowly, her hand gripping your arm as you both watched each closed door you passed for any movement. For some reason, you stopped at your old room - curious to see if anything had been done to it.
You both entered the room, doing a quick perimeter check despite how small the room was. You felt like you could never keep your back facing one direction for too long and Nayeon seemed to have the same sentiments.
“How do we know they’re even here?” As if to answer her question, a heavy thud caused the both of you to jump and turn around to see a tennis ball bouncing down the hallway. The silence, as well as your thundering heartbeat, was deafening.
You didn’t know what to do. The reality of the situation was hitting you that you were back in this place and the result was suffocating. It was like some time away from this place had given you perspective and now that you were here again, you saw it all in a different light. Everything that happened in this past month suddenly hit you with a new meaning.
Soomi’s obvious distaste for this place and then her abrupt departure. The missing woman Detective Lee had been looking for. That feeling like you were always being watched ever since you moved in here. And now, Jihoon’s kidnapping. It all clicked into place and you couldn’t help feeling like a fool for not realizing it sooner.
Everyone had warned you - your mother, the man on the bus, even Soomi - that the one thing you should be scared of most was strangers. You never knew how spot on they were until now. Ever since you had move into this city, you had witnessed a true evil that you had never seen before. And standing here in Eden Residence, you really felt like you were in Hell.
Moving quickly, you shut the door and locked it. You slowly stepped away from it, as if it would burst off the hinges at any loud noise. Nayeon was watching you with wide eyes from where she sat on the bed, gaze flitting back and forth between you and the door.
“What are you-”
“Shhh.”
The two of you waited, ears tuned for any possible sound. It felt like ages before you finally heard something. Footsteps, but it was hard to tell where they were coming from. Your eyes were trained on the small amount of light seeping under the closed door, feeling your body tense up as a shadow passed by. Whoever it was either didn’t know you were in here or wasn’t concerned with your presence at all.
When the footsteps seemed to be retreating, Nayeon heaved out a sigh as if bored with the situation. She opened her mouth to say something, when another loud thump interrupted the tense silence. You stood there, paralyzed with fear, as the door shook each time something collided with it on the other side. Nayeon shrieked, moving to stand next to you as the two of you watched what looked like an axe start to break through the dark wood of your bedroom door.
Your heart was hammering so fast you briefly wondered if this is what a heart attack felt like, just in time for your youngest roommate’s face to appear in the small opening they had just created. “Noona, you came back!”
You don’t know how to respond, especially when you look over to see the mix of confusion and fear on Nayeon’s face. The two of you could only stand there pressed against each other as a hand reached in and unlocked the door from the outside. Finally, the door swings open to reveal Seokjin, Jungkook, and Yoongi’s smug faces.
“Why are you hiding in here?” Seokjin chided teasingly, a small smirk on his face as the other two snicker quietly.
“The only one who’s hiding is that crazy asshole! Tell him to come out here and show himself,” Nayeon snapped, her loud volume causing you to flinch involuntarily.
“What do you mean? He’s right here,” True to Yoongi’s word, Namjoon popped his head in the doorway next to the others. You tensed up at his arrival, backing further into the desk behind you.
“Oh, don’t look so scared, YN. Tonight’s supposed to be a joyous occasion.” Namjoon smiled, stepping in and reaching a hand out. Both you and Nayeon stared at him like he was crazy, which he was, but he wasn’t deterred. “Come on, don’t you want to see Jihoon?”
At that, Nayeon broke away from your embrace and met him head-on. Despite the obvious height difference between them, she stood her ground and looked as menacing as possible. The sight reminded you of when Soomi tried to confront Taehyung and it gave you an uneasy feeling in your stomach.
Your fingers gripped her wet shirt, pulling her back a bit. Namjoon’s eyes followed the action, watching you curiously. You felt as if you were getting between two wild animals that wanted to fight. “Nay, let’s just go.”
“This is crazy. I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” Nayeon shakes her head but relents, throwing her hands up in defeat.
The two of you follow him out of the room, eyeing your other roommates warily as they smile at you. Yoongi and Seokjin take the lead, walking towards the stairs as Namjoon ushers you to walk ahead. Shivering uncomfortably, you glance behind you to see Jungkook and Namjoon bringing up the back of the group, their dark gazes already trained on you.
As you ascend the stairs to the mysterious upper floor, you feel a strange sense of satisfaction come over you as you realize there was something going on up here. If only you had followed your intuition back then, maybe you wouldn’t be in the position you are now.
Yoongi and Seokjin push past the plastic curtains, holding them open for the rest of you to step through. You don’t know what you expected to see up here but the sight still surprised you. The interior was much like the rest of the building, but just like Jimin had explained when you first moved in, the walls and floors were terribly burned. You could see in some places where the renovations had just barely started, a few walls with large openings in them to inspect the damage, but it still seemed unsafe to be in this area of the building.
They continued to lead you down the hallway, your suspicion and paranoia rising the longer they dragged this out. You could tell Nayeon was getting frustrated too, her pinched brow and narrowed eyes taking in the surroundings. Finally, they brought you to a room that must have been larger than any of the others. It was a big, open space that reminded you a bit of an empty warehouse with its lack of furniture.
This room, much like all the others on this floor, was poorly-lit and made it a bit hard to make anything out. There was a bright, almost industrial-like light coming from further into the room but was obscured by more clear curtains. It honestly felt like you were on the set of a horror movie.
“Okay, what the fuck is this,” Nayeon snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and rearing back to look at the men leading you into what felt like a trap. It was stupid, you knew it was stupid and yet, here you were.
Before anyone could respond, a pained groan sounded from somewhere in the room. You all turned to where the light was coming from, a tense silence filling the air. You didn’t hesitate to breeze through the curtains, Nayeon hot on your tail. What you saw caused you to freeze in your tracks and bump into her figure behind you.
Even though you had seen him already from the picture, nothing could have prepared you for it in person. You almost didn’t recognize him like this, especially not after seeing him the night before when he was completely fine. The last time you had seen him you screamed at him to leave you alone and then this happens? First Jiwan and now Jihoon, you must have had some kind of strong karma going for you.
“Oh my god, Jihoon,” Nayeon cried, her voice a startling whisper next to you. You just felt numb as you looked from him to her, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
Taehyung ventured out from somewhere else in the room, joining Namjoon and Seokjin where they stood by what looked like medical cabinets off to the side. Your gaze swept around the room, suddenly noticing the make-shift dentist’s office that had been set up back here. Jihoon was sitting in the patient’s chair, his arms and legs bound with thick rope.
You barely caught the subtle nod Namjoon gave to the men behind you before Yoongi suddenly seized Nayeon and lifted her up. She screamed in protest, kicking harshly at one of his shins causing him to hiss in pain.
Strong arms wrapped around you from behind, causing you to immediately gasp and begin to struggle. You felt a nose nuzzle into your neck, sniffing deeply, “It’s okay, noona. We won’t hurt you.”
Jungkook softly deposited you in another type of patient chair - this one more upright so you could face them all more evenly. Your body went stiff as you watched Yoongi do the same with Nayeon, her arms and legs bound as well. She spewed curses at them and you could only sit there, feeling powerless. This all felt like a bad dream. How could any of it be real?
“What do you want?” You dared to ask, your gaze meeting Namjoon’s unwavering one.
“You.” It felt as if someone had knocked the air from you just from the one simple word.
“Truthfully, I had meant for this process to go a lot smoother. I’m- well, we are all pretty good at playing the long game. It’s certainly not the first time,” Namjoon cracked a grin at that, earning a few chuckles around the room. “We had never meant to target your friends, knowing what that would do to you. It got to the point where we had no choice but to involve them. And when we learned what they were doing behind your back, we didn’t feel so bad anymore.”
The sound of Jihoon’s grunt caused your attention to snap back to where he was, now noticing how Taehyung and Yoongi were now hovering over him. Taehyung smiled at you, seemingly innocent if it weren’t for the hand laying on Jihoon’s knee applying pressure.
“Leave him alone!”
“Jin.”
At Namjoon’s cue, the elder male was quick to produce a roll of duct tape from somewhere, ripping a piece and spreading it on Nayeon’s lips before she could even realize what was happening. It worked, mostly, as you could now only hear her muffled grumbling behind the tape. You thought they would let it go so you were shocked to see Namjoon take quick strides over to her, calculated hand reaching up and smacking her across the face. She sat there, stunned, with her head turned to the side and breathing heavily.
When Namjoon seemed satisfied with her compliance, he spoke again, “As I was saying, we were willing to wait for you, YN. Because we knew you were special. You see the world differently, just like us.”
“I’m not- I don’t kidnap and murder people.”
“Maybe not. But that rage you feel inside you? The one that made you snap on your co-worker like that? It’s the exact same thing we all feel all the time.” Namjoon spoke clearly, stepping closer to you until he was only a few feet away. “You see, YN, we’ve all come from rough beginnings. I’m sure you’ve already gathered how some of us grew up together because we didn’t have a family or a place to call home. It didn’t take long for us to realize that we only had each other and that was all we really needed. No one else mattered.”
The longer Namjoon talked, the more you felt crazy for not noticing it sooner. He was insane.
“No one took care of us so we quickly decided that we would take care of them. We don’t just murder people - we remove the filth from this world and make it a better place for the rest of us. Which is why we are taking the first step in our future together and purging you of any filth in your world.” You couldn’t even process his words before Yoongi brandished a knife from somewhere and quickly swiped at Jihoon’s throat.
Blood spurted out of his neck, adding to the mess on his clothes and chair. Nayeon’s piercing screams were all you could hear, not even noticing the hands rubbing your neck and shoulders comfortingly. You couldn’t move or breathe, your eyes trained on the now lifeless figure of Jihoon. Your boyfriend, the man you had loved for most of your adult life, was dead. And it was all your fault.
Nayeon began choking from screaming and crying with her mouth covered and to your surprise, Seokjin removed the tape from her mouth to let her breathe. She coughed and spluttered, sobs wracking through her body all the same. It was strangely silent as they all waited for her to recover. Your gaze flickered around the room, observing the quiet anticipation on all their faces. You were shocked to feel someone’s knuckles wiping your cheek catching a tear you hadn’t noticed had fallen, looking up to see Jungkook smiling down at you sadly.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Yoongi spoke finally.
She lifted her head, blotchy eyes glaring at no one in particular. “You sick sons of bitches, you’re gonna-”
“Not about him,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, kicking her chair tauntingly. “We’re talking about why you visited YN today.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you don’t remember telling the cops you knew who Jiwan’s murderer was before you came over to see her? That wasn’t you trying to get a confession out of her?” Seojin’s tone was condescending, clearly not in the mood for her bullshit.
“Wow, you guys are something else,” Nayeon laughed airily, the kind she usually did when she was bluffing. Her face was red, too, but you couldn’t tell if it was just from the crying. “YN, don’t listen to them. Can’t you see how they’re trying to cut everyone out of your life?”
“Only the people that need to go.” Jungkook’s quick response caused you to jump, not expecting the youngest to join in.
“We already knew you were a bad friend but when we heard how you tried to incriminate YN, we realized you weren’t a friend at all. In fact, after talking to our dearly departed over here, we soon realized you two have had this secret affair going since your college days. Isn’t that right?”
It felt like your world was crumbling before you. Your boyfriend was dead and now you were finding out your best friend had never actually been real with you. Neither of them had actually cared for you. How could they care when they were sneaking around behind your back? Thinking back on all the times you had spent with them looking like a fool made you feel sick.
“They’re lying, YN. We never-” Her voice sounded strained like she was trying to keep it together, red eyes pleading with yours desperately.
She looked at you like you were the only one who could save her but you had no idea how - you were just as helpless here as she was. Nayeon was most likely going to die here and you didn’t think you could do a thing to stop it. You almost suspected they would kill you as well once they realized they couldn’t get what they wanted from you. You didn’t think you had it in you to be what they want.
Jin whipped out a knife of his own, pressing it to her arm and drawing blood. Nayeon hissed in pain as he warned darkly, “Lie again and see where it gets you.”
“Okay, okay.” She gulped, clenching her eyes for a moment to ground herself. “Yes, okay. We did it back then, too, but you have to understand, YN. It had started before we had even met you.”
“But he never wanted you as a girlfriend, did he? He wanted YN and you on the side,” Namjoon egged her on, standing between the both of you. “So you continued playing the other woman while secretly loathing YN.”
“And when you saw an opportunity to get rid of her, you jumped.” Taehyung joined in.
“No, no-” Seokjin brought the knife up to her neck, and that’s when she finally broke, “Fuck, fine! Yes. I thought maybe you’d get arrested, go to jail for a little while. I didn’t know if Jihoon would give up on you but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I can’t believe this,” Her lips pressed in a firm line as she stared at you fiercely. “You were really gonna let me go to jail over a guy?”
Out of nowhere, she busted out laughing. You didn’t bother to check but you’re sure everyone else in the room looked just as confused as you did. “I’m sorry, I just think it’s funny. You can’t believe someone would betray you - who would do such a thing to sweet little YN - but I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m here in some psychopath’s evil lair all because of you!”
You stare at her stunned, as the entertained light dies on her face and what is left is only a cold, indifferent mask. In all your years knowing Nayeon, you don’t think you have ever seen such a look of hatred on her face. Not even when other girls whispered about her behind her back at school or when random guys grabbed her ass at parties. She looked like she wanted to wipe you off the planet and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.
“I wish I’d never met you, YN. You give off these innocent vibes that draw people in and make them want to help you but deep down, you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us - maybe even more so.” She spits angrily. It was like she had been given truth serum and her most honest feelings were all flooding out, every venomous jab she spewed felt like a dagger twisting in your gut. You’re too focused on her to notice the way Jin reaches for the tape again only to be stopped by Namjoon who waves him off, watching on curiously.
“All those times when I went out of my way to help you and for what? Maybe I was just trying to ease my own conscience by helping such a pathetic loser. And then you just fucking stuck to me and it was like I couldn’t get rid of you-“
“Y-you approached me! I didn’t ask for you to come help me,” You argued back weakly, feeling defensive for some reason.
“Yeah, right. You were crying in the bathroom like some attention whore,” she sneered at you, which earned a deep growl from somewhere in the room that gave her pause. She cleared her throat awkwardly, eyes widening like she saw her life flash before her eyes, “I never knew you would attach yourself to me like that and I never could have imagined you and Jihoon would hit it off like that.”
“I had no idea you and Jihoon were together back then.”
“We weren’t,” She admitted bitterly, causing you to frown in confusion. “We were hooking up but he said he didn’t want anything serious. He said I was too much energy for him. Then, next thing you know, you two were dating.”
It was all starting to click together now. You had unknowingly stolen Jihoon from her - although, truthfully, he never really was hers to begin with. And now, it felt like he had never been yours either. But none of it mattered now, the damage had already been done.
“But that didn’t stop him from calling me every other weekend asking for a quick hookup while you were busy studying. And when we both graduated and moved here, he was calling nonstop.” She smirked at you, something truly wicked in her eyes that you don’t know how you missed before. “I never really understood why he kept stringing you along - maybe he just felt bad for you. Well, I guess I did too, seeing as I’m the one that brought you out here.”
“And look where that got us,” she continued, shaking her head in disbelief. “The thing I can’t wrap my head around is how you of all people could cause such destruction. I mean, just what is so fucking special about you? Jihoon couldn’t let you go and now this bullshit... You’re like a virus that we can’t get rid of.”
You’re not sure if it’s her hateful speech or the deep frown on your face that does it but you could feel the energy change in the room. In the corner of your eye, you saw Taehyung walking over fast with a knife in his hand and it was like something switched inside of you. Everything was a blur as commotion fell over the room, voices shouting and chairs being knocked over. There were arms trying to reach for you and bodies trying to block you but your only focus was on intercepting Taehyung. It all happened so fast your mind could barely keep up with it.
Your feet tore out of the room, thundering down the hallway as you made your way to the stairs. Racing down them as fast as possible, you could see the residence opening leading to the outside in your view. The storm was still going strong, rain hitting the ground loudly from outside the entrance.
Just as you were about to make it, a hard body appeared out of nowhere and quite literally knocked the air out of your lungs as you both collided. Long arms reached out and held you, preventing you from falling back on the stairs. You reeled backwards, chest shuddering with how fast you were breathing from running mixed with the shock of the sudden intrusion.
“Woah,” the voice said, and you blinked quickly to refocus. “Where’s the fire?”
Hoseok. You had completely forgotten him staying here amongst all the chaos these past few days. You had left him here with no warning on what these guys were like. It was lucky he was still alive.
“H-Hoseok,” you choked out, still out of breath as your hands gripped onto the ones on your shoulders. “We have to get out of here.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His usual cheery face was frowning in concern.
“The others- they’re gonna kill,” You clenched your eyes shut as you remembered the sight of her bleeding out and screaming. “Oh god, I think they killed her.”
“Killed who? What are you talking about?” You suddenly notice the police uniform he’s wearing, confusion clouding your thoughts as you look him up and down. You’re pretty sure he never dropped that little detail, only ever telling you that he was an aspiring rapper so this must have been a major career switch.
“You’re a cop? Since when- nevermind, you can explain later. This is good, this is-” Relief flows over you as you realize you’re safe. He’s a cop, he’ll know what to do. You knew sending that text last minute was a good idea, even if coming here was crazy. “They-“
“YN,” Another voice suddenly sang out from upstairs, making your blood run cold. You didn’t want to look and see who it was but Hoseok turned your body to face Jimin standing at the top step. You barely feel a small prick in your neck amongst the shock before black dots begin to form in your view. “You weren’t leaving already, were you?”
Feeling yourself go limp, you’re almost relieved to feel thick muscles wrap around your frame and catch you before you could fall. A sweet whisper in your ear to comfort you before you go under, promising what is to come.
“We’re just getting started.”
*****
You woke up again later, in that room upstairs again but a different section of it this time seated in another dentist’s chair. They must have done some cleaning if the scent of detergent in the room said anything. Your eyes opened and shut a few times, trying to adjust to the lights. Behind your eyelids, you still saw splotches of red, memories from before flooding back in.That was real, wasn’t it?
You moved to get up, finding it difficult to even raise your head a few inches. Your limbs felt so heavy like they were made of sand. You whimpered, trying once more to move a muscle and flopping back on the seat with a frustrated groan.
“Shh, don’t move,” A soft voice cooed, your gaze snapping over to find Jimin seated next to you with a gentle smile on his face. “You’re too weak right now, baby.”
“W-what did you do to me?” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, making it hard to speak.
“I just gave you something to help you relax a little. It will wear off in a few hours,” He answered honestly, reaching out for your hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it.
“You’re awake,” You looked up at the sound of Hoseok coming in, wiping his hands off on a rag and looking far-too casual to be here than you would have expected. “Are you feeling better?”
“You-” Your head spun as you saw Namjoon follow, his dark eyes settling on you immediately. He was still wearing his work suit and you couldn’t help but notice how pristine it looked, not an ounce of red on it. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that he was steady and skilful with his line of work. “You’re all in on this?”
“In on what?” Seokjin entered, sending you an innocent smile.
“Don’t tease her, Jin,” You don’t know how long Yoongi had been in the room, breezing through one of the curtains with a box of cleaning supplies in hand. “Yes, he’s with us, YN.”
“Sorry I had to knock you out before, YNie. I wasn’t expecting to run into you like that.” Hoseok smiled cheerfully at you, pulling a chair out in front of you and straddling the back of it. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You ignored him, turning to Namjoon. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I asked you a question, babe.” You had never heard Hoseok sound so serious before, your heart stuttering in your chest at the sound of it. Looking over at him in surprise, he shocked you again when a wide grin broke out across his face. “Although, I’ll cut you some slack. You did just come out of it.”
“When did you become a cop?” You don’t know why that was the pressing question on your mind but found that you wanted to know.
“About a year ago,” He responded coolly, leaning back in his chair and leveling you with his gaze. “The rapper gig is a side hustle, I guess you could say.”
“How can you be a cop and partake in this...?” You weren’t sure how to finish the question, hoping they would fill in the blanks for you.
“I’m kind of like a spy,” He winked at you, an amused smile stretching across his face. “I get to have fun here while also keeping tabs on what the police are up to. I make sure they don’t sniff too close around here and find out something they shouldn’t.”
“He also makes sure that no anonymous tips get sent where they shouldn’t,” Seokjin adds, giving you a pointed look.
“Detective Lee,” You whispered in shock, cringing as you realized your plan had been foiled. No one was coming to save you.
“It was a smart move, I’ll give you that.” Yoongi spoke, arms crossed as he glanced over at Seokjin. “Unfortunately, Detective Lee has been out of commission for quite some time.”
“So what is this, like a club for murderers?” You asked bitterly, looking around the room to see some of them let out a few chuckles or crack a grin in response. “Are you going to kill me next?”
The laughter stopped at that, a few of them even looked offended that you would suggest it. “Never. You’re our missing piece, YN.”
“I don’t understand,” You cried helplessly, searching around the room for at least one of them to crack but they maintained a strong front. “Why can’t you just let me go?”
“Do you remember what happened with Nayeon?” It was as if the air had been sucked from the room, somber expressions taking over their features as they all watched you carefully.
“Yes,” You answered confidently, not truly representing how you felt. It honestly had all been a blur of bodies and hands, weapons and blood. You couldn’t really make sense of it. “Taehyung went at her with a knife and I tried to stop him.”
“No.”
You were shocked to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, fixing you with a dark gaze. The sight of him made you shiver where you sat, trying not to imagine what he was capable of as you looked at him. You couldn’t help but notice how his clothes looked pretty clean too for having just murdered someone, straining to see if you could find any red on his clothes but failing. Maybe they’d changed clothes?
It was then that you looked down at your own clothes, dark red that had already seeped into the material and mostly dried. The same red had stained your hands even down to underneath your fingernails, shock coming over you as you studied them carefully. How?
“It was all you, YN.” You snapped your head up at Seokjin’s voice, his back leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he looked at you with what looked like pride in his eyes.
“No, I didn’t- I wouldn’t,” You shut them down, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to replay the events in your head clearly. You had jumped out of your chair, went for Taehyung, reached for the knife, and then-
You gasped, fresh hot tears rolling down your cheeks as it finally sunk in. The look of absolute betrayal on Nayeon’s face as she looked up at you, mouth open in pain as you twisted the knife deeper.
“I tried to stop you, noona.” Jungkook sounded small from where he stepped out behind you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “I thought you were gonna hurt one of us or even yourself.”
“I knew you had it in you from the first night we met.” You shook your head vehemently, not wanting to believe it. A hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to face Namjoon head on. His face was blurry before you quickly blinked away your tears.
“I’m nothing like you.”
“Hmm, still so headstrong,” Namjoon chuckled to himself, a thumb coming up to wipe a stray tear on your cheek. “You think you don’t belong with us, don’t you? You’re scared that if you stay here too long, you’ll become just like us. But the truth is, YN, you already are.”
Embarrassment flooded through you at the choked whimper that came out of you as he gave you a small, understanding smile. He stepped away, taking his warm touch with him as he went searching for something in one of the cupboards. He pulled out a leather belt of all things and what looked like a mallet.
“My job is to show people what they’re capable of when they can’t see it themselves. I see the potential in you like I saw in them. I can help you see it, too,” Namjoon explains, reaching for a few supplies that you couldn’t make out. “There’s an animalistic side to you that comes out when you’re under pressure. It’s that side that seeks out the evil in the world and destroys it. Today was the first day I got to see it in action and it was better than I could have ever imagined.”
“It’ll be like before when you were living with us. Only now, you won’t ever have to leave and we won’t have any more secrets!” Jungkook exclaimed, his bright eyes so hopeful they reminded you of a young boy.
You must have looked unconvinced because Jimin quickly amended, “Come on, it won’t be so bad. We may have had some hiccups before but we’re learning to practice better roommate etiquette now. Right, guys?” You heard an awkward cough from somewhere in the room mixed with a few snickers, your brows furrowing as you tried to decipher what he meant.
“Unless of course, you liked it-”
“Taehyung.” Your eyes flitted back and forth from Hoseok’s stern glare to Yoongi’s gaze awkwardly avoiding you before it clicked, your eyes widening in embarrassment. You had nearly forgotten that little spectacle from a few weeks ago, hoping it would never happen again.
Not missing a beat, Taehyung rolled a chair next to you, plopping down in it and leaning onto the side of the bed. He reached for your other hand that Jimin wasn’t holding, bringing up to his cheek and cradling it. “We’re gonna have so much fun, YNie. You still owe me that meal, remember?”
“This next part isn’t gonna be so fun but it has to be done so we can all be stronger together in the long run,” Namjoon explained simply, giving you a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “You’ll grow to understand and eventually, you won’t want to run away anymore.”
You didn’t have time to give them any thought before Seokjin lifted the belt to your mouth and instructed, “Bite down, sweetheart.”
You numbly did as you were told, watching in confusion Namjoon made his way to the front of the bed near your feet. You weren’t sure if your body was tensing for what was to come or if it was just the drugs but you ultimately felt powerless as they all crowded around you. It felt like time was in slow-motion as he lifted the mallet over his head and swung down on your leg hard. White hot pain exploded in your ankle, a feeling so strong you thought you were going to throw up from it. Distantly, you heard screaming before you even realized it was coming from you.
There were hands rubbing your face and hair, voices trying to comfort you but it was as if you had left your body. You shut your eyes, trying to block them out and focus on anything else but the pain. If you thought this past month was rough, you hadn’t realized what true anguish was. Laying there in unimaginable pain, completely powerless and unable to move, all you could think was that this really was Hell. And you didn’t think you would ever be able to truly escape it.
“Don’t cry, baby. It’s gonna be beautiful.”
taglist: @min-mingii @micheleinumaki @potaetopic @namjinieesope @mageprincess7 @minshookie29 @outro-kook @nikipedia07 @axniyx @kittykatfey @peaceout97 @kurodach @bex-tk1 @sa7kou @purpuravm @doublebunv @amylouisecullen @rossemayme @unsureofwhathappens @sleepy-time-dreamy @anushaackerman @shyloh-the-cornsnake @toughbook @urbanbts @carpioassists @millenniumspec @maliyachan @lovely247 @croctears @uarmyhore @shadoweepingscream @inlovewithallmusic @jcrml @xmochiloverx @whipwhoops
A/N: wow i can’t believe we made it!! i'm not even sure how to leave this but i just wanted to say thank you all for sticking with me til the end. i am so grateful for all the support and every new friend i’ve made throughout writing this fic!! i hope you enjoyed this last part and pls let me know what you think :)
-hope<3
#yandere#yandere fanfic#yandere fanfiction#yandere x reader#yandere kpop#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#yandere yoongi#yandere hoseok#yandere jimin#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#yandere bts#yandere bts x reader#yandere bts x yn#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#bts x yn#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#strangers from hell au
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Another Glow Week Submission since I was late 🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵
Fireflies-
It was nearly Midnight. Summer breezes filled with the smells of dirt, animals, flowers and nature musk flowed through the night and rustled the grassy planes. Small creatures skittered about in the darkness and under logs and rocks to hide.
Out in the middle of the field were two star crossed lovers, gazing at the sky.
Connie could hardly believe Steven sometimes. He was so spontaneous and quick minded. While she herself was strategic and methodic. It left a sense of excitement in their relationship though, and she always looked forward to little moments like this.
*
Steven had woken up sometime in the night and stayed out of bed long enough for Connie to desire his warmth and seek him out.
He was standing on the porch just off the living room with his head tilted all the way back. She waited for him to move, but he did not. After about 5 minutes, she slid the door open quietly.
"That can't be comfortable." She crossed her arms and smirked at the hybrid.
"Actually, it's not as uncomfortable as you think." His head remained craned for a few extra seconds then he turned to look at her. His eyes flashed luminescent pink for a half a second and he walked close to her. "Let's go."
Connie was taken aback. "To bed?”
Steven shook his head. "No silly. Go out."
She snorted and poked the hybrids chest. "And go where, exactly? Everything is closed. It's past 11."
"We aren't going to a place of business, Connie," He said walking into the house past her. He looked back and motioned for her to follow him. A yawn broke through her curious grin and she did as directed.
Lion was sleeping on the living room couch when they came back in, but Steven stroked his mane until the mighty beast stretched and opened his eyes to give his owner a dirty look as if to say, "What?"
Steven leaned in and whispered into his ear for a bit and Lion stretched once again, yawned and stood by the back door with a huff of complaint at being woken.
"Connie, go grab your phone just in case Lion takes off."
He disappeared into the storage closet and Connie called out after him. "I never said I was going anywhere! I'm sleeeepyyy..." She whined.
"You'll live, Berry," Came the smug response.
Connie decided she was too tired to argue and went to grab her phone. She clicked it on and grimaced at the brightness. 11:11. "This had better be good, Universe," She mumbled, wrapping herself in her favorite robe.
By the time she was done, Steven was on Lion and ready to go. Connie crawled up and no sooner had she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend did Lion took off running through their open back door and across the sand. Connie could feel Lion getting ready to warp so she tightened her grip just before a loud roar ripped a hole in front of them that they charged through without hesitation. When the portal opened, it was to a field of grasses and flowers.
"Oh, Steven. It's gorgeous!”
"Wait there's a lot more where that came from! If you think that's cool, look at the blank area in the middle of the field. It's just big enough for two people, even if one of them is 6’11." He smirked and Connie rolled her eyes.
“My very big boy." She laughed and poked his side.
She stepped away as Steven reached into Lion and pulled out a massive blanket.
He spread it out over the flat area inside the plains and Connie sat in the middle of it all wondering what she was doing here.
"Steven, what-?"
"Just come lay on me," He implored, patting his chest.
Connie could never resist his sweetness. So she scooted a bit closer to listen to his heartbeat.
*
And now there they were, laying back on their blanket and staring up at the sky.
"There's Homeworld," Steven said, pointing towards a cluster of brightly colored stars.
"Hm. I see Ursa Major." Connie pointed in front of them. It was dominating the sky tonight it seemed.
"The Big Dipper!"
"Ooo, I wanna find the little dipper!" Connie scanned the sky and pointed at the tiny constellation.
"Aw, the little dipper is so small and cute." They said at the same time.
The Jam Buds burst out laughing and turned toward each other. They didn't need to tell each other they loved them, they could see it in their eyes. Connie laid her head on Steven's arm and nuzzled him sweetly.
"Thank you for bringing me out here," She whispered.
"Just wait." Steven stood and brushed the grass, causing a cacophony of green lights to rise slowly into the night air.
"Firefly chasing?" Connie proposed.
Steven laughed and nodded. "You’re on!!!!"
They chased the fireflies over and over, through the grass and into the air. Steven would even jump to catch a wayward one to present to her.
They did that for hours and hours. It was nearly 3 by the time they decided to just enjoy nature for awhile. They laid down and cuddled; listening, smelling, seeing and soaking in everything there was to offer.
Connie felt her eyes growing heavy, so she cuddled in farther to Steven, taking in his faint cologne and natural musk. Her eyes fluttered shut and stayed.
*
When she woke up she was back in her house, in their bed. There was a note on the mirror that said 'I love with our adventures, but I love you way more’.
Connie's cheeks turned burgundy and she shook her head. "He's so fricking cute, I swear I can't with him."
She laid back down and laughed as her eyes grew heavy again and she drifted off to sleep, wishing he was there again to take her on another adventure.
#steven universe#connie maheswaran#steven universe future#steven universe fanart#steven universe au#my writing#su fanart#writers#art#author#glowweek prompts#glowweek#glow#jam buds#biscuit and berry#steven x connie#fireflies#glow week
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(R) Drabbles: Klaus Mikealson- Laid Up
It came out of nowhere. That’s just how Klaus was with everything and everyone. I’m one moments turn everything could change. He could go from anger to begging on his knees for you to love him and kiss him all over.
It was a rather funny thing that you sensed was ever changing with Klaus. Six months together well actually a full year together being the closest of friends and just now six months together. When it first happened it was extremely exciting. Klaus had dragged you almost all the way towards his room.
Louisiana sits high in the background, the sun has set and there’s a breeze in the hot summers air. Your sun dress is sticking to your hot skin has Klaus shut… more like slams his bedroom door. That night he doesn’t tell you he loves, but he shows you he loves you. Deep thrusts that make everything fell foggy and hot skin pressed together bruises that became darker by the second.
Months laters, Klaus is yet again tugging you into his bedroom. It’s become a shred space between the two of you. You bright color and twinkling lights with you, along with throw pillows he grumbled about how annoying they were.
“Fuck sweetness, do you know how pretty you are? My pretty little thing.” Klaus is saying as he combs a few fingers through your hair. He pushing and pulling you all over the room until you manage to make it to you bed.
When he does get you to the soft side of the mattress. Your knees hitting the back of the bed and causing you to fall on your back. Klaus is on you like flies to a light. Buzzing and throbbing to be right next to you right inside you. His touches this time are more delicate than most other times. He takes his time with you getting you clothes off and leaving sweet kisses to your hot skin.
The night is forever long in the best of senses. Klaus is powerful and strong with his ability to make you fall apart in your bed. You don’t remember how tou ended up under the sheets wrapped in Klaus arms, and you honestly don’t give two shits. Your body is hot and sticky, your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest.
What you do remember is being swooped up into Klaus arms. His breathing is slowing and he’s lightly brushing a finger over your cheek bone. The silence is completely comfortable. That’s until Klaus is back to tapping away, the words flow effortlessly out of his mouth. A sense of grace and ease flow as Klaus mumbles the first and hopefully the many “I love you”. You can’t help but smile even in the darkness you know that Klaus is smiling just as wide as you are.
When you wake in the morning the sun as already roses way above the cities sky. Your body aches and your hair is all over the place. Your eyes still feel heavy even though you’ve somehow slept over. Klaus has you wrapped up tightly in his arms. He always opts to be the big spoon when you lay down which you don’t fight him on.
“Hmm Y/n stop moving.” You heart a disgruntled Klaus murmur. His voice is filled with sleep, but he has yet to open his eyes. You’re trying to get out of the bed, your hungry and need breakfast sooner rather then later. You move again his Klaus hold, this time it’s a gentle squeeze that keeps you in place. “Babe I need to move.” Your words are soft and sleep ridden just has much as his are. “I have to pee!” you declare as Klaus sighs heavily letting his grip on you fall.
You don’t try to make a run for it after using the bathroom. You can hear the kitchen calling your name, the recipe for your home made pancakes is calling for you. You scrub the sleep from your face and enter back into the bedroom. You lay into the sheets, soft and warmth is still radiating off of them. Klaus peeks just one eye open. He sees your back and he pulls back into his arms. You two lay in silence for a while it’s comfortable, breathing is the only thing to be heard. That’s until your stomach is sending very clear messages.
The grumbling noises causes you to groan and you try to get up but those strong arms don’t let you move. “Klaus, please I’m hungry.” You exclaim, yearning for food is an understatement for how hunger you are. You can hear Klaus whine from behind you his head tucked into your neck. “Please just let me go make some food I’ll come right back.” You beg but there’s nothing but until your try moving under his hold. “No don’t go.” It’s a quiet sleep filled statement. You move once more and this time it seems to have woken Klaus up completely.
“No, you can get up you’re my prisoner for today.” Klaus says his eyes finally opened and looking at you. He yawns widely before throwing his around you keeping you forever close to him. “You can’t just starve your prisoner baby.” You say logically. Logic had been thrown out of the window though long ago when Klaus first saw you. “I can do whatever I want to you y/n.” Klaus murmurs, rough and tough like but still into your neck. “How about you and I go downstairs make food and then we can come right back up here?” You suggest, the puppy dog eyes are being thrown in your direction. “Are you sure?” Klaus asks like a shy kid in school. You hum and feel his arms loosen around your chest and waist.
As you walk towards the bedroom door waiting for your lover to follow sluggishly behind you. You can help but turn “Oh and Klaus I love you too baby.” With that your turn and leave the room bound for the kitchen and a plate in front of you.
Completed on: 02/28/23
Posted on: 03/06/23
The originals-
#fem reader#female reader#fluff#requests are open#open requests#klaus mikealson x reader#klaus x y/n#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus blurb#klaus mikealson fanfiction#the originals klaus#the originals x reader#the orginals#requested#anon#anon are getting answered#anon thoughts#thanks anon!#anon answered#anons my beloved#klaus michaelson
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When it rains, I miss you
The video of Wonwoo’s beanie acrostic poem was all over my timeline and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I find it so sweet, so I decided to write this.
Pairings: wonwoo x gender neutral reader
Genre: fluff (kinda), slight angst, slice of life
Warning/s: mentions of eating
Synopsis: when the rain starts pouring, flood comes rushing akin to the thought of you running through his mind.
I was listening to this song when I started writing this piece. I hope the song will give you the same warmth it gave me. If you're feeling under the weather when you find this, do know that I'm genuinely hoping for better days ahead of you. May all of you find a reason to smile and something to look forward to :)
•••••••••••••
Dark clouds were gathered in the sky, similar to the painting you have given him, it was unchanging. The space he was in is quiet, although he was used to it, it felt different this time. It was kinda eerie and cold without your presence. Soon after, his room was filled with sounds that were far from your melodious laughter. The rain kept tapping on his windows, but he remained still in his position, laying on his side of the bed.
Holding onto it tightly for too long, the cold object touched his ear while he faced the ceiling. Every passing second felt like hours although that’s probably because of his anticipation. Four, five, six rings later without response, he managed to tell himself to just try again next time. They’re probably just busy. He thought, trying to appease himself.
As much as he wanted to stay calm, intrusive thoughts kept disturbing his mind that is filled with everything about you. For some time, he allowed it to consume him, knowing it’ll eventually stop. It will, won’t it?
He closed his eyes for God knows how long. Breathe in, breathe out. That’s it. Just like that. He did what he remembered you telling him what to do when things get out of hand. So for a few more tries, he breathed in and exhaled, hoping that the air he lets out takes his worries as well.
Wonwoo was stuck, at least that was what he was feeling. The rain outside showed no mercy and so is the strange feeling that has been bugging him. However, he somehow found comfort in the rain. Quite thankful to the sky for empathizing with him, hence, wishing it won’t stop soon. The cold air due to the circumstance may give him shivers, but the downpour will always, always, give his heart the warmth he needs similar to the warm smiles you’ve given him during rare occasions he’d be cuddly with you.
Oh how he wished he could’ve been straightforwardly affectionate with you, shower you hugs and kisses to dissipate the trace of tiredness after having a long day, prepare instant rice for you so you could enjoy and munch on your dinner without being disturbed. If only he wasn’t shy and reserved, he could’ve done the same things you do for him, be it small or big things to show love and affection, but he couldn't. He doesn't have the guts to do so.
Wonwoo stared into space as his room gradually turned pitch black, illuminated from time to time thanks to the lightning which, someway somehow, livens the empty streets from outside his window. Like how he wished, the sky continued to cry. Hearing the sound emitted by the torrential rain, he was almost lulled to sleep but a familiar ring alerted his senses.
"Hi, Honey. Sorry for not picking up your call, I was in the shower earlier" the voice from the other line started.
"It's okay. Have you eaten yet?"
"Nope. Not yet" cabinets opening were heard from the other line. "I was thinking if I should order takeout but I might just cook something with the ingredients I have here." Wonwoo hummed in response and shared his plans for dinner when he was asked in return.
"The rain doesn't look like it'll stop soon" he muttered under his breath. "Yeah. But it's kinda soothing, right?" He agreed especially because you replied with a tone he's so familiar with. The tone you use when you're trying to get him do things he normally wouldn't do, the one he can't resist when you're using it against him, and the one akin to warm blaze of sun that melts his heart whenever you tell him what's inside your pretty head.
"Honey..."
"Yes?"
"You don't seem okay. Is there anything you want to tell me?" worry was evident in your voice when you spoke to ask the question. Wonwoo wasn't quite sure what to say or how to tell what he's been feeling lately but he surely knows he has to tell you something, at least, because you are his and he shouldn't keep secrets that involve you.
"Well... I... " Wonwoo started and then stirred in his position. He tried to open his mouth but nothing came out of it. He tried so hard to form sentences in his head but the universe must have been playing tricks with him to make his mind this foggy. "Y/N.. I..." and then complete silence followed it.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, Wonwoo. Whatever it is, I just hope you're not beating yourself up. Though you can tell me anything.. whenever you're ready" you suggested before speaking again "and if you're thinking about whether or not to tell me what's going on, I'll be just here making my dinner, okay?" a chuckle left your mouth as you spoke those words. As soon as he heard what you're up to at the moment, he turned the switch of the lamp on his nightstand, making him squint. A few retouches after, he requested for a video call to which you gladly accepted. From his phone, he can see you chopping some veggies on the counter and your device probably situated on a free space in front of you.
He was busy intently watching you prepare dinner, and you doing something that looks so domestic pulled his heartstrings. He got so lost with your every move that he didn't realize you were done cooking until you called out his name, only to see you so ready to take your first bite of the food you've made. He had this dazed look on his face which you pointed out and told him how cute he was being. Blood went rushing through his ears but he didn't let it stop him from ogling at the precious person he was seeing.
By the time you were done with your food, Wonwoo was still on the call. He remained seated on his bed throughout your meal, and he remained there, seated, as you clean up and wash the dishes.
It's a pity you were separated by distance. His thoughts went to how it would be nice to be with you in that situation, how he could clean up after every meals instead of you. He's quite good at it, he thought. He felt helpless for he cannot do anything about it.
"You're done already?" He questioned when you got back to your seat.
"Hmm" you responded and then asking if he still has plans to eat.
"am not really hungry, I'll just snack if I get hungry" His eyes settled on you after speaking those words. Then again, you asked if everything's okay but he didn't verbally respond, instead, a staring contest ensue between you two. You weren't one to give up so you trained your eyes on him. Your will to become the winner on this game was nowhere to be found when he spoke I miss you so bad sincerely.
Him catching you off guard was an understatement. Heck it was. You were overwhelmed by his actions, in a good way, at least. He was never one to be this straightforward. Right then and there, you realized that this must be what he cannot tell you. It must have took him a lot of courage to tell you words he's been meaning to say.
When you didn't reply immediately, he was quick to think you didn't like what he just said so he tried to take back his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable—"
"I miss you too, Wonwoo. I miss you so much too" as those words left your mouth with so much sincerity, you could see his eyes well up with tears. You told him not to cry as it will make you cry as well. He blinked the tears away before muttering an apology.
"Sorry for being emotional. I just miss being by your side and the rain didn't help at all to stop me from missing you" he explained, swiping his thumb on the part of screen where your face is clearly shown, imagining it was your cheeks he was caressing.
"You don't have to be sorry" you reminded him. "I miss you just as much"
Wonwoo curtly nodded before proceeding with more I miss yous. His act made you giggle. "You're surprisingly affectionate today. What's gotten into you?" you questioned from the other line.
"Nothing. Can't I give my baby affection?" the words that left his mouth gave your cheeks color. This time, it was his time to giggle after looking at your flustered state. Seeing your furrowed brows and pout made him erupt to laughter, causing you to whine. When he was done laughing, he smiled at you and scrunched his nose after, knowing exactly how that gesture affects you.
"I love you so much, baby. I can't wait to see you in 3 days"
You beamed at him before responding "I love you too, honey!" excitedly. "Days pass by quickly. It won't be too long 'til you're in my arms again... So don't miss me that much" you reminded him, a teasing tone evident in your voice as you spoke the last sentence.
Wonwoo didn't promise anything as he was sure he'd still miss you even after the call, he'd still miss you even if the rain would stop pouring, he'd miss you until you're finally there in front of him and not just a thought that was meant to stay inside his head during his days while on the road.
•••••••••••••
Hi! It's me again! I would just like to remind you that, again, this is yet to be proof read. I planned to post this yesterday but I was distracted by BeTS tour. Were you guys able to watch the concert? If yes, please let me know your thoughts! I was screaming internally during the whole concert. Everything was BOMB! SEVENTEEN proved once again that they are THE standard. I can't help but ogle over those 13 talented men. I'm proud to be their fan and I'm also proud to tell everyone that they are my idols 😭 anyway, I hope I could secure a ticket and attend their offline concert here in Manila AND I do hope ticket selling will start around August or September so I could have time to save money 🤧
Okay, enough with that. Hope everything's going well for all of you! ^^ Have a nice day everyone~
#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#wonwoo imagines#seventeen x reader#Spotify#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader
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Octogoblin October Day 25 - Nightmare
For this one, I have something very special for you! It's an excerpt from my fic Can we get back to yesterday? It's chapter seven, but it can be read apart from the main Story! If you want to read the full Story click here. It's a College au, where Otto and Norman are roommates.
Anyways, enjoy!! 💚💜
(Story starts under the cut!)
Chapter 7
It was dark.
The sky was covered with dark green clouds which from time to time lit up as lightnings struck them like electric eels.
Rain poured against dirty windows, and the thunder was tearing at the old, small suburban house Otto was at. He didn’t know how he got here. The wind was so strong, the house seemed like it could be torn apart at any second.
The walls were once white, but the rough weather has washed half of the paint off the rotten planks of wood. Otto couldn’t really move, he just stood there, his feet rooted into the ground.
He felt his breaths were getting faster and faster.
Oh no. A panic attack. He tried to shake the scary feelings off and took a step forward, and with that, he now stood in front of the entrance. He couldn’t really control himself, he just stepped inside and looked around. The kitchen, the small dining table, chairs spread across the whole room.
A disturbing silence took over the whole room, and Otto could hear his heart beat faster and faster. He looked over to the left, where the kitchen was, as he suddenly heard a voice crying in a distant echo. He knew this voice too well.
„Mum?“
A lightning struck the house, and with a bright white light and a noise loud as a bomb Otto found himself kneeling on the old, rotten planks on the kitchen floor. Eyes wide and his breath so heavy that his lungs started to hurt, he looked up. A dark silhouette was standing in front of him, so tall, it nearly touched the ceiling. Otto was shaking on his whole body. He fell back, and tried to escape, but he soon was stopped by the corner of the room.
He was trapped.
„No, please no…“ he murmured. The silhouette stepped further towards him, every step crashing onto the ground. Ottos vision became blurry because of tears streaming down his face.
„P-please, leave me alone!“, he cried. His lip was quivering as he begged for mercy.
„Go away, please! Please…no…“
The shadow-like person slowly raised its left arm high above its head, and with one strong move, it stroke Otto in the face.
He felt the pain spreading on his cheek, his skin felt numb and the tears streaming down were burning on the irritated tissue. He felt his body going down on the floor, the rotten planks leaving splinters in his hands.
Otto couldn’t see anymore. The pain stunned his senses, and he felt his vision becoming darker and darker until there was just deep depths of black.
———
Abruptly, Otto woke up in a cold sweat. He found himself sitting upwards in his bed, his hair being wet and he breathed heavily. He firstly checked on Norman, but he was sleeping. Thank god.
He hated feeling this powerless.
This nightmare followed him like a creature, waiting to strike. Every. Goddamn. Night.
Otto decided to get up and he went to the bathroom. He locked the door and leaned himself onto the sink.
Breathe, just breathe, he said to himself.
The sink felt cold on his bare hands. Cold sweat was running down his back, leaving an icy trail which sent shivers down his spine. Otto turned around, now facing the round mirror hanging above the sink. He saw himself, tired, dark shadows under his reddish eyes and his wet curls laying on his forehead.
He hated seeing this version of himself. He never felt such weakness in years, and back then he even believed he’d never feel this way again. But yet - here he was. Struggling with something.
But what exactly?
Was it Norman, being his first real friend he ever had? He was someone who Otto could always rely on, and he appreciated this very much. But - deep down he knew, there was more that was bothering him.
Maybe his feelings he tried to suppress? He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling at the moment, it felt like everything came together at once.
Something was wrong, he recognized. But he couldn’t figure out what it was. And that made him sick, and tired and confused.
He looked into his brown eyes in the mirror, looking for an answer.
What the fuck is wrong with me???
His head started to hurt again. He turned on the water, and put his hands below the water jet. It was ice cold, as it touched his skin, and with his frozen hands he tried to cool down his forehead and his temples. This lowered the pain and he soon felt a tiny bit better.
Sigh.
He took a deep breath and decided to go back to sleep. Tomorrows class would be early.
With caution and as silent as possible he walked back to his bed. He lied down and pulled the sheets up to his chin.
But although he lied there, comfortable and warm, he still was afraid.
Afraid to close his eyes, and with that, returning to his nightmares.
#otto x norman#octogoblinoctober#octogoblin#norman osborn#octoblin#otto octavius#dr otto octavius#college au#fanfiction#spiderman no way home#ottoborn
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Longing
Pairings: Gilbert Blythe x OC
Summary: Isobel Richardson had just moved to Avonlea. Not long after the other new redhead in town, Anne Shirley. But what happens when this young girl catches the eye of Gilbert Blythe.
Warnings: None in this chapter. Just fluff.
Part one of ?
♡🌹♡
Isobel Richardson opened her eyes and sighed as she saw the sun shining bright in the sky out the window. She pulled her pillow over her head and let out a frustrated groan into it. It was only her family's second day in town and yet she was already being forced to go to school. The first day of school officially was yesterday but she was able to get out of going then since it had already started when they arrived.
Most all of Isobel's belongings were still packed away in trunks so she would have to search and dig for a dress to wear, much to her dismay. She had been tempted to continue to lay in bed until she was too late to go but quickly changed her mind when she heard her father calling her from downstairs.
The young girl sighed again before throwing her blanket off of her and springing from the bed. She went to the mirror on the vanity across the room and looked at the messy and knotted hair on her head, promptly picking up the hairbrush laying on the table and running it through the knots to smooth it out.
The next order of business was to find a suitable dress. She didn't want to flash her family's wealth to all of the other children her age on her first day here because she thought it would make her look like a snobby brat. However, a dress that was too raggy wouldn't do either. Her mother always told her that first impressions were everything. In the end, she found a nice moss green dress that would do well, as green seemed to be one of the few colors that went well with her auburn hair. Once that was on, she rummaged around and found a ribbon to match the dress, tying off the top half of her hair behind her head with it. She finally slipped on my white apron over the top and slipped on her boots, calling it a day.
"Are you ready for school, Isobel?" her father, Henrik Richardson asked her when she came downstairs.
"Whether I was or not would that stop you from making me go either way?"
"Probably not, no. It won't be so bad."
"I just don't understand why we had to move. To this town of all places too. Everyone who lives here has probably known each other since they were born."
"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll fit right in."
"Oh have you met the girl, Mr. Richardson?" their housemaid, Edith spoke up. Ever since Isobel's mother died Edith had been practically another member of the family. "She's not the type of girl that blends in."
"Thank you for that astounding observation, Edith," Henrik chuckled. "Now, Isobel, eat your breakfast and start heading to school. I wouldn't want you late on your first day. Your supplies are sat on the table under your sweater and hat."
♡🌹♡
Despite her protests, breakfast ended and Isobel had to start making her way to school. The paths were easy enough to follow but it would take about ten minutes to get to the schoolhouse. The paths through the forest were quite pleasing to the eyes, as well as the other senses. It was quite different in Avonlea in comparison to the bustling city they moved from.
As Isobel was walking, she began to hear someone talking. Or barking more like it.
"You wanna get slandered?" a boy said.
"Sorry I truly meant no harm!"
"Excuse me?" Isobel called to them as they came into view. She saw it had been a blonde boy cornering another small and frail red-headed girl.
"What's this?" the blonde boy asked. "Who are you?"
"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something? Because I was hoping one of you would be able to show me to school?"
"Oh yeah we shouldn't be late," another boy with dark hair said. "Mr. Phillips sure gets a dander up about that."
"Gilbert," the previous boy gasped. "Uh- Welcome back."
"Hey, Billy. Yeah, it's good to be back. But we really should be heading to school."
"Yeah, I was just about to get going. See you there."
"You girls alright?"
"School," the red-headed girl gasped suddenly, turning to run away.
"You're welcome!" Gilbert called after her. "Need anything else? Any dragons around here need slaying?"
"No! Thank you!"
Isobel and Gilbert both stood dumbfounded at the sight in front of them. The boy looked towards her and she simply shrugged before they both started walking to school together.
"I didn't catch your name."
"I didn't throw it," she answered. "Isobel. And thank you but I really did have that handled."
"Oh, I could tell. I just thought you may need some help is all."
"Well that's very kind of you but I can fight my own battles."
"I see. Your accent. Where are you from?"
"I'm fae Scotland. I was born in Charlottetown but my mother missed her home in Edinburgh so we moved there when I was only a few months old. My father only recently decided to move back."
"Fae?"
"From, sorry. Different country different terms."
"I quite like it," he said, holding open the door for her. "After you."
"I'm sorry if I was rude," the girl from earlier said. She seemed to have waited for the two others at the door. "I'm Anne."
"I'm-"
"Gilbert!" everyone shouted in the schoolhouse as he was ushered inside and swarmed by boys.
"I didn't get your name," the strange girl said to Isobel.
"Oh, I'm Isobel."
"Well, Isobel, would you like to join me in setting my bottle of milk in the stream outside?"
"Gladly," she chuckled.
Anne offered her arm and Isobel linked hers with it as they walked back outside to the stream. Once Anne placed her bottle in the cool water and stood back up, Isobel went to do the same.
"I love your hair!" she beamed after a moment. "The deepness of the color is so exquisite and it suits you so well. The green of your dress compliments it quite nicely "
"Yours is just as beautiful."
She chuckled. "The carrot-orange shade of my hair is nothing compared to the divine auburn of yours. I can only hope that mine will someday darken to be the same as yours. Maybe then I'd be a little prettier. And your freckles? They're so subtle one wouldn't think to notice them."
"I don't know what you think you were doing talking to Gilbert Blythe!" a blonde girl suddenly proclaimed to the two red-headed girls, one of which was still crouched by the water behind the other.
"I..."
"You can't talk to Gilbert Blythe," another girl declared. "You can't even look at him! Just see for yourself."
There was a small blonde girl in a pink dress whose face was red and wet with tears.
"Ruby has liked Gilbert for three years! She has dibs. There there. The nasty girl didn't know any better. Just like yesterday with your tall tales."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk with him. It just happened."
"Well don't let it happen again."
"I won't. I promise. I'll have nothing to do with him."
"And you!" she said turning to Isobel. "Just who do you think you are? Waltzing in here and trying to steal him away from poor Ruby?"
"I think I'm a person with free will. As is Gilbert. Shouldn't he be in charge of his own decisions?"
"You just moved into the house near mine, didn't you?" a girl in a blue dress spoke. She turned to whisper to her friends. "The house her family lives in is close to twice as divine as mine. Our house looks like a shack compared to theirs."
"My father enjoys living in luxury," she said flatly. "I would be content with living in a shack if I was with those who I loved. I think that's more important than riches, don't you?"
"I wholeheartedly agree," Anne smiled beside her.
The other girls just glared at them before turning around and heading back into the school. All of them other than the girl in the blue who looked at Anne and sighed.
"I'll try and smooth things over."
"Don't let them get to you, okay?"
"Oh but I'm so very desperate to fit in. Maybe make some friends."
"Well, how about I be your friend? We can stand out together. Now come one, we'd better get to class."
♡🌹♡
"Open your readers to page 32," Mr. Phillips ordered. The students all obeyed instantly. "We will read aloud Barry Cornwall's poem The Fisherman. Diana Barry. Stand and begin."
The girl from before who wore the light blue dress sighed deeply before grabbing her book and standing up at her desk.
"A... per-i-lous life, and sad as life may be. Hath the lone fisher... on the lonely sea-"
"Perilous indeed," the teacher interrupted. "New girl. Up, continue," Anne and Isobel both glanced at each other. "Uh.. the orphan one."
Anne smiled widely, picking up her book and beginning to read.
"O'er the wild waters laboring, far from home!" She exclaimed with her tone and actions full of emotion. "For some bleak pittance e'er compelled to roam. Few hearts to cheer him through his dangerous life. And none to aid him in the stormy strife. Companion of the sea and silent air. The lonely fisher thus must ever fare... Without the comfort, hope, with scarce a friend, he looks through life, and only sees its end!"
"Sit down!" Mr. Phillips ordered as the class burst into laughter. Isobel simply sat there confused She didn't understand why they were laughing, had they never read poetry aloud before? "Josie Pye."
The blonde girl from before, who Isobel suspected to be the "leader" of her clique of girls, rolled her eyes before standing with her book and continuing the story in a monotonous tone.
♡🌹♡
Finally, lunch arrived. Isobel knew her option to sit with the other girls (excluding Anne) was out considering Josie Pye sent her a glare as she put a blanket wall up between two easels.
"Should we go get our milk, Anne?" I asked her.
"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."
The two of them grabbed their lunches so they could eat outside and went to go get their milk bottles from the stream.
"Hey," Isobel heard from beside her when she crouched down. She looked up to see Gilbert holding a red apple in his hand. "I uh- thought you might want to try this? They're from our orchard, they're real sweet."
"Oh," she smiled, "Thank you, Gilbert. That's really kind of you."
He looked towards Anne who was still looking at the ground, not paying him any attention, and started speaking again. "Sorry if I had known the both of you were coming to school today I would've brought more."
Anne continued to ignore him.
"Well, we can split it. Right Anne? Or you know, you brought it for your own lunch so we can all three share it if you'd like."
The girl looked towards Anne to get her opinion but she was watching the window. Isobel looked to see the group of girls standing there staring at us.
"No, trust me it's fine. We have plenty more on my farm. We could keep an entire army fed if we wanted to," he finished with a chuckle. She joined him after a moment.
"Anne?"
"Please go away," she hissed under her breath, her mouth hardly moving at all,
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm... WE are not supposed to talk to you."
"Why not?"
Before either of them could answer, Anne let out a frustrated groan before grabbing her friend's arm and yanking her back inside the school, leaving Gilbert behind in confusion still holding the apple in his outstretched hand.
"We're not supposed to talk with him, Isobel!"
"Says who? Those girls over there who treat you like dirt? Why do you care what they think?"
"Diana says that it's important to fit in and be friends with them. I don't want to ruin my chances of being a part of their group."
Isobel sighed. "Anne. You don't have to be friends with them to be happy. You're just going to make yourself miserable in the end." She simply shrugged. "Now come on, let's go eat our lunch."
♡🌹♡
The students were sitting in class after lunch doing math in silence when Isobel heard a small "psst" beside her. She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to see Gilbert smirking at her. She rolled her eyes and continued her work, ignoring him when he did it again.
A moment or two passed before she noticed a small piece of chalk gently roll over to her foot. The redhead looked slightly to her right and saw Gilbert bent down to pick it up, placing his apple on Isobel's desk.
"Whoops," he shrugged.
She chuckled and shook her head. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be working."
He shrugged again. "Just testing a theory."
He then dropped the chalk on the floor again and this time it stopped at Anne's feet. He walked over to her and repeated his actions. When she didn't react he got up and pulled lightly on one of her braids.
"Hey, carrots!"
"I'm not talking to you!" Anne screamed. Isobel's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as they all witnessed her pick up her chalkboard slate and slap Gilbert in the face with it.
Gilbert didn't seem phased. Instead, he just sent her a smirk.
"You just did."
"Shirley!" Mr. Phillips sneered. "Get up here! Now! What a vicious display!" Anne looked just as shocked as the rest of us as she set down her slate and slowly walked towards the front of the room. "Is that what they taught you in that orphanage? Unacceptable!"
"It was my fault, sir," Gilbert tried convincing him. "I teased her."
"Quiet Blythe! That's hardly an excuse!" The whole class had been snickering with each other, laughing about how much trouble Anne was in. "Quiet! All of you! Return to your lesson!"
As Isobel looked down towards her board to continue working, Mr. Phillips started to shout again. She looked up to see Anne sprinting towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going? Get back here! Shirley!"
But she was already gone.
♡🌹♡
"How was the first day of school?" Edith asked as she took Isobel's sweater and hat.
"Just as I expected. Full of pompous girls and ignorant boys. Only one person being the exception in each group."
"But that must mean you met two acceptable people then?"
"Yes. I did. One girl, her name is Anne. She's new like me. She seems to just want to fit in with the others though. And a boy, Gilbert. He seems to be less insufferable than the others but the girls seem to think one of them has staked a claim on him and none of the others are allowed to speak to him because of it."
"Oh, who cares what those other girls say?"
"I certainly don't. Aside from Anne, Gilbert seemed to be the only other decent person in that classroom."
"Well, I'm glad you were able to make a couple of friends. Now run along. Go clean up so you can help prepare supper later."
She nodded and swiftly left to go clean up.
Maybe this town wouldn't be too bad after all.
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Soup Ladles and Rain
read on Ao3
words: 1259
He loved what the rain had brought out in her. He loved getting to see her free of the burden that had been on her shoulders since they met. He loved her.
--
Link slowly awoke to the sound of rain.
Rolling over, he had half a mind to just move in closer to Zelda and her warmth, breathe in her flowery scent and go back to sleep, but even half-consciously, he could tell that would be impossible.
Zelda was not there.
His eyes shot open with a gasp as he sat up straight. In a panic, his gaze darted around the dark room, and after the few seconds where he couldn’t catch a glimpse of her, he jumped out of bed and flung himself down the stairs. Once his feet touched solid ground he noticed with even more panic that the front door was slightly ajar.
Immediately, Link assumed the worst. Monsters lurked outside Hateno Village, even after the Calamity. She was in trouble. She had been taken, or worse. Even with her powers, he couldn’t help but feel white hot dread creep up his throat like bile.
Trying to clear his head, he kept his eyes on the door and inched slowly toward the wall, moving backward along it until he reached the display cases that Bolson had built. He grabbed the nearest weapon he could find - a soup ladle. Recently, Zelda had taken to switching out his swords with various objects to make him laugh. It would have to do for now.
His fingers curled around the warm wood, and he held his breath as he moved stealthily toward the slightly opened door. He caught a glimpse of movement and pressed up against the wall, using the ladle to push the door open all the way. It opened silently, and he slowly leaned forward to peek outside.
The sky was gray and shrouded by the clouds and rain, light enough to indicate the onset of a hazy, early morning. The front yard of their Hateno house was occupied by Zelda, who stood there with her arms out to the side and her face turned up to the sky. If Link listened closely, he could hear her laughing above the sound of quiet rain.
All of his panic dissipated like smoke, and he pulled himself from the wall to instead stand in the doorway. His heart fluttered as it always did when he saw her, but it wasn’t often he got to see her relax. She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that her nightdress was soaked and clinging to her legs and arms, or that her bare feet were covered in mud and freshly cut grass. She was at peace, and he probably would have been content to stand there and watch her all morning.
Slowly, she lowered her arms back down to her side, her shoulders tensing as she seemed to sense his presence. She turned over her shoulder and smiled sheepishly at him. Some loose hair stuck to her face and neck, water droplets running down her cheeks. “Ah. Did I wake you?”
For a moment, he was caught off guard. His heart pounded faster as he shook his head, the tips of his ears reddening.
Turning to face him fully now, she tucked some hair behind her ear. “My father would surely disprove of me out here like this, but I…I missed the feeling of rain on my skin, after all of these years,” she admitted softly. “It’s so warm. I used to play out in the puddles with my mother.”
Link felt the familiar weight of guilt for the one hundred years he spent unconscious, for all that time she spent trapped and using all of her strength. He’d been lectured by Zelda countless times to not put that burden on himself, but it still came every so often. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he smiled and turned his thoughts to her, wondering how one person could be so perfect.
Lowering her face, she took him in again, giggling. “Why are you holding a ladle, Link?” His ears reddened again. Unwittingly, he glanced down at the ladle in hand, having forgotten he was still holding it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stepped inside to put it back on the table, then turned back around in time to see realization dawn on her face. She laughed through her words. “Oh! Did you think I was in danger? You are so sweet. I recall watching over you at the beginning of your journey; I suppose you managed to do some damage with lesser things.”
He blushed, but relished in the sound of her laugh anyway. “You’re the one who switched out my display cases.”
“And you thought it was funny!” she protested through more laughter. For a moment, they just stared at each other. He took her in again, full of life and light and no longer a memory, but physically here with him. Gratitude surged through his veins, and he wondered if she felt it, too.
Quietly, she lifted her arm, reaching her hand out toward him. The rain seemed to halo her features, making her glow against the hazy gray air. She truly was the Goddess incarnate; he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything or anyone so radiant.
He stepped out from the doorway, immediately feeling the rain plop onto his head and skin. It began plastering his hair to his forehead and weighing his night clothes down, but he didn’t mind, moving forward to close the distance between them and take her hand. He lifted her hand to his lips and she scoffed, grinning widely.
“Oh, come now. No need for such formality, hero,” she teased, yanking her hand toward her to propel him closer. He stumbled forward, crying out in surprise, until they were inches apart. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he blushed again, moving to support her hips. “I received dance lessons as a child to prepare me for my suitors,” she murmured as they swayed quietly together. “This is much better.”
Link stared into the eyes that he had once tried so desperately to remember, wondering how he could have possibly forgotten them. They were his favorite shade of green. Zelda smiled bashfully and closed her eyes, and they leaned their foreheads against each other.
For a few moments, nothing else existed. It was just Link and Zelda together, in the rain.
When she pulled back, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. She sighed contentedly, then said, “We ought to get back inside before we get sick.”
Somewhat reluctantly, he nodded. He loved what the rain had brought out in her. He loved getting to see her free of the burden that had been on her shoulders since they met. He loved her.
Squeezing her hand gently, he led them both back toward their house, but before they could step inside, he turned to her. “I love you,” he murmured, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Zelda seemed taken aback for a moment, before a bright smile pulled at her lips. She leaned forward, reaching to cup his wet cheek, and kissed him softly. A jolt of electricity traveled down his back, stronger and much more pleasant than any electric arrow or lightning bolt he’d been struck with before. He wished he could live in this feeling.
Before he knew it, she had pulled back. “I love you, too,” she said softly, smiling at how clearly red his face had become. When she stepped inside to find them some towels, he put his face in his hands.
Hylia, he was in so much trouble.
#legend of zelda#botw#zelink#princess zelda#link#nintendo#I love them so much hnnnnnggg#my writing#agoldengalaxy#my post
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KAREN Masterlist
5 Times Peter Slept Where He Shouldn’t (ao3) - punkybunny
T, 13k
Summary: (+ 1 time Tony did!)
Peter has a tendency to fall sleep in places that he probably shouldn’t be sleeping in, whether he means to or not. Cue Tony, who is becoming increasing distressed as he tries to keep his kid safe and get him to finally sleep in an actual bed.
5 times Peter was saved (ao3) - orphan_account
mj/peter
G, 12k
Summary: ...and the one time he saved everyone
-in other words strong boy peter parker saves everyone who took time to save him when they didn't have to
A Horrific Game Of Hide And Seek (ao3) - Buckets_Of_Stars
T, 15k
Summary: Aside from feeling strange and having his Spidey Sense go off every five seconds, Peter is having a pretty good week. His Dad is home and he can even hang out with his friends more.
Too bad things don’t stay that way.
One mistake as Spider-Man changes everything and the teenager realizes the importance of always listening to his gut. Because that might be the very thing keeping him safe.
Bad decisions and the art of teaching AI’s to lie (ao3) - wolfypuppypiles
M, 2k
Summary: He knew that, logically, he should tell Tony, because he’d been told off a million times for hiding injuries, because stab wounds were dangerous, because he was fifteen and shouldn’t deal with those things on his own. But on the other hand, he healed so fast that it would probably be gone by morning, and he really didn’t feel like getting stitched up again. Plus, Tony would lose his mind over it.
Between a rock and a soft, squishy, place. (ao3) - wolfypuppypiles
M, 5k
Summary: Peter finds himself in a partially collapsed building, with a very angry alien who wants nothing more than to crush him and eat him for dinner. At least his days are never boring.
Connecting... (ao3) - Speeps
G, 1k
Summary:
>> connect to SPIDER_MARK_03
c o n n e c t i n g
Error: receiving terminal not found
Karen is confused.
He Can’t Just Be (Gone) (ao3) - ambivalentangst
M, 2k
Summary: Karen loved her Peter—sweet and kind and making a mess of his suit with crumbs—so very much.
It wasn’t like him to plead.
How it happened, Karen didn’t understand.
I kinda sorta got stabbed. (ao3) - peter_parkr
T, 3k
Summary: This left Peter alone in a dark alley of Queens past midnight on a school night with a severe stab wound bleeding freely into his cupped hand. He stumbled backward and landed on his ass, leaning against a dumpster.
"Fucking idiot" Peter mumbled. Guy could’ve walked away with spider-man’s identity but instead he got $12 and an empty Dunkin’ Donuts gift card.
---
Or: Peter gets stabbed in a fight and refuses to call Tony but ends up bleeding on his doorstep anyways.
I know I'm not alone (ao3) - Summerwolf
G, 9k
Summary: 5 times Peter hid and injury.
And the 1 time he didn't.
It's getting hot in here, so take off your spidey-suit (ao3) - wolfypuppypiles
T, 4k
Summary: Peter suffers from heatstroke and has to get himself home while trying not to pass out or fall off a building. It's not a happy day for our Spider boi
Peter's Field Trip To Stark Tower (ao3) - ScxrletWidowXx
G, 4k
Summary: Peter Parker's class is going on a school trip! Can you guess where?
---
Basically, the Avengers are embarrassing Peter and being overprotective because of Flash.
spider-man is dead (ao3) - bstarship
T, 6k
Summary: One morning, Peter wakes up to find that he's gone viral. And he’s dead.
Tony's Not The Only One Whose Best Friend is a Bot (ao3) - spidermanstan
G, 3k
Summary: request from my tumblr: "could you write a fic that focuses more on peter and karen's relationship??" why, yes i can!!
in which karen helps peter through the ups and downs of a day on patrol that goes from run of the mill to anything but.
Total Knock Out (ao3) - JeffersonStarships
peter/wade, pepper/tony, bucky/steve, clint/matt
E, 78k
Summary: The sky shimmered as the sun peaked out over the spiked skyline, glinting off the glass and rainbowing a varying spray of blues, yellows, oranges, and pinks on the clouds.
It was a beautiful sight.
Peter groaned miserably.
“F***,” Clint hissed as he wrapped another one of Peter’s many wounds in haphazard gauze.
As it was, Clint was the least injured of them, and he was covered in bandages and bruises. Sure, some of those he had started with, but he was hardly in any shape to be playing field nurse.
Peter used his good leg to kick Clint away, “Go help Daredevil,” his breath hitches as Clint tapes down the edge of his makeshift bandage, “He doesn’t have a healing factor. I do. Leave. Me. Alone.”
“Dammit,” Clint growls slapping at Peter’s ankle, “You’re going to bleed out- Stop- Stop kicking me!!”
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The Call
Armitage Summer Splash #25
Trope: Birthday
Quote: “I’m sorry.”
Relationship: John Porter (Strike Back) x Fem!Reader
A/N: The sequel to my previous fic Never Together
Dark clouds gather in the sky and an ominous rumble echoes far away. Soon the rain falls heavily and soaks everything it can reach. I stare out at the pillow that I accidentally left in my favorite chair on the terrasse and the fabric darkens within seconds. I hesitate, either I will be drowned from head to toe, or the pillow might be ruined. Quickly, I decide to save what still has a small chance to be saved and push the handle down. A flash of light tears the dark sky apart as I grab the pillow and the thunder that follows makes me jump. Like a startled animal I run back inside, close the door and look down at the pillow in my hand and then at my light blue blouse. It was the right decision after all. Clothes can be changed. I head for the bedroom and just as I start to unbutton, my phone rings. Perfect timing by the unknown caller. For a second I consider ignoring the call but something tells me not to and without even registering how it happens, I accept the call.
“Hi, honey!” John’s voice takes me by total surprise.
“John?” My voice is shaky, tears fill my eyes and my heart feels like it’s going to explode. Of all the people in the world, his voice was the last I expected to hear. All the usual well-wishers have already called or texted me and since my birthday is in the middle of the week I have no real plans until Friday. Work is overwhelming this part of the year and all I really want to do when the day is over, is to go home, eat my dinner, read a book and go to bed.
“Happy Birthday, my love. I’m sorry, I cannot talk long but I want you to know that I wish I could be with you today, to celebrate.” The connection is really bad but his deep, smooth and yet powerful voice reaches to the center of my heart and comforts me nevertheless. I sob quietly, partly from shock but most of all because of my strong longing for him. Every day I try to balance it whenever he is away. Never knowing where in the world he goes or when he will return is something I still struggle with, even if we have already seen two summers come and go together. I guess it will always be the hardest part of being involved with someone that has chosen his type of career.
I know better than to question him for details about his location so instead I ask him if the weather is warm and when he tells me about how hot the temperature is I counter with the thunderstorm that now rages outside my bedroom window. When he lowers his voice and asks me if I sometimes think of him when I go to bed, I giggle. He knows very well I do and I remind him of that in a teasing voice. The reward comes in the form of a low groan.
”You have no idea what that thought does to me,” he murmurs and the sound of his voice is almost lost over the bad line.
”I hope you will show me what it does to you when you get home,” I say, drying my tears with the back of my hand and smiling as I picture us together, sharing heat and passion once more.
”Oh, you can count on it, sweetheart.”
Raised voices are heard in the background and my heart instantly picks up speed. As though John can sense the shift in my emotions, he quickly tries to comfort me and tells me it’s nothing to worry about. But I can hear in his voice that he is not totally honest with me. He excuses himself and ends the call with a few last affectionate words. Then he is gone again. I stare at my phone, it almost feels alien in my hand. He has never called me from a mission before and the fact that he now did means more than any gift he could have given me. As I keep unbuttoning my blouse and changing into one of his sweaters, I think of how far we have come. The confession of our mutual feelings was only the beginning. But once again I can only hope and pray that this mission will not stand in the way for our continued journey.
Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog! ❤️
Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @laurfilijames @enchantzz @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @s0ftd3m0n @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra
Let me know if you want to be added or removed.
#armitage summer splash#john porter#john porter x reader#richard armitage#fanfiction#strike back#reader insert#fanfic
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you used to paint his skies (pt. 2)
pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader
overview: The one in which Bokuto is still swearing up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.
word count: ~4.3k
content warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, MSBY!Bokuto, mildly suggestive scene at the end (no nsfw), our baby Bokuto kind of loses it at the end, don’t let the fluffy interludes deceive you again
notes: I’M SO SORRY FOR LITERALLY BEING DEAD FOR 6 MONTHS,,, Here’s the second part to “you used to paint his skies” :D (I think this is better than part one — at least I hope so). Some people asked to be tagged for this second part, so those will be below. Thank you for reading, darlings ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ <333
part one.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
“Baby?”
Faint sniffles came from Bokuto, whose head was currently nestled on your lap, the two of you strewn across the sofa. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, as if he were afraid that holding you any looser would cause you to disappear from his arms. His voice was quiet, meek — nothing like the loud, boisterous ball of energy you’d grown to adore, to cherish.
To fall in love with.
Now, here the both of you were, a pile of cracked and fragmented pieces of the love you once shared, desperately grasping at whatever you could salvage from the mess.
You hummed a response.
“Are we gonna be okay?” Bokuto turned his head, his eyes staring up at you — wide, teary, and filled with a broken sense of hope.
In an attempt to avoid breaking down a third time, you cleared your throat. You still couldn’t look down at him, into his eyes that seemed to praise your very existence, even after the pain you caused.
“Please.” His voice cracked.
“Let’s not talk about that right now, Kou-Bokuto.”
He bit his lip roughly, enough to bite into the skin and draw a slight trace of blood. Choking on a weak sob, he nestled his head into your stomach once more. He couldn’t stop you from calling him that name anymore; he’d lost that privilege.
What could he have been asking for? For you to simply just call him your Koutarou again? For you not to leave him and stay in his arms? For you to kiss him and wipe those tears running from his pretty eyes as you tell him you’ll love him forever, no matter what?
Quite honestly, Bokuto didn’t know what he was asking of you; he didn’t know what he wanted from you.
The only thing running through his mind was the fact that he’d just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him.
You.
You, the love of his life. He knew you like the back of his hand.
He knew how, despite your small tendency to be romantically constipated, you tried your best to love him — even to the point of using stupidly cheesy pet names for each other.
– – – – –
“Please, baby!” Bokuto had your hands tightly grasped in his. “I swear, if you do this for me, I won’t ever ask you for anything else for the rest of my life — okay, that’s a lie because I really want ice cream after this, but you know what I mean!”
“Kou.” You drew in a breath. “I’m saying yes to the ice cream later, but those are the cheesiest pet names I have ever heard of.”
You saw the way Bokuto visibly deflated as he heard your soft rejection of his idea.
For the rest of the night (after stopping by the store and getting yourselves two tubs of ice cream, of course), the two of you sat cuddled up on the sofa half-paying attention to whatever B-list movie was recommended to you. Occasionally, you would hear Bokuto let out a deep sigh, most likely to try and guilt trip you into doing what he asked of you earlier.
Turning your head to face him, you grinned at the little pout on his lips as his eyes bore holes into the TV screen.
“Hey, Kou.”
Nothing. His attention stayed glued to the TV. The only sign that showed he’d heard you was the deepening of his pout.
“Koutaro, pretty boy. I’m talking to you,” you giggled.
Still nothing. You racked your brain for all of the possible ways this could end — every one of them resulted in the same thing.
Sighing, you brought up a finger to poke at his cheek. “Hey, dovey.”
If Bokuto were a dog, his ears would have stood straight up and his tail would have started wagging as he whipped his head around to look at you.
“Say that again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and sparkling and the corner of his lips twitching, just barely restraining a smile.
When you didn’t reply, his fingers prodded at your side — a promise to tickle you if you didn’t humour him right now.
“Say it again! Who am I?”
“You’re my dovey.”
“And who are you?”
You struggled to fight the urge to curl up into yourself as you answered him, “I’m your lovey.”
“And what are we together?” Bokuto brought his face closer to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and lips.
“We’re lovey dovey.” You completed it with a pair of awkward jazz hands.
With that, Bokuto’s face split into a blinding smile as his laughter rang through the living room. He brought you tight into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.
“Yes! I knew you could do it, lovey!” Your cheeks grew warm as you were subjected to his rain of kisses on your face.
Pulling him in for one last kiss to your lips, you whispered, “I love you so much, Kou.”
– – – – –
He knew how he was always the first thing on your mind; you’d put him as your first priority without fail, no matter how busy you were, even when he hadn’t put you as his.
– – – – –
Bokuto stared up at the crisp, white ceiling — hospitals were never a fun place to be in. He was broken from his thoughts when the door to his room burst open, revealing you in your ever-ethereal work clothes rushing toward him.
“Babe! Are you alright?” Stopping at the side of his bed, you brought his hand up to place a kiss on his knuckles.
Bokuto let out a light laugh as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, honey.”
“What do you mean ‘nothing to worry about’? Your coach said that you’d have to be out for two weeks!”
“That’s not too much! It’s not like I’ll be missing the whole season, angel.”
“But, Kou, you also have to–”
Bokuto stopped your worried rambling as he pulled you down, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheeks. He gave you a smile.
“Stop worrying, baby! Everything will be fine because I have the cutest, smartest, and kindest nurse to help me recover, right?”
“And who’s that?” You sent him a teasing look as your hands shuffled through your pockets looking for your phone.
“You, silly!” He paused before staring up at you in concern. “You are going to take care of me, right, baby?”
“I don’t know about that, Kou. Work has been hectic lately.” You pulled out your phone.
“But I’m injured! And I’m your boyfriend too! You can’t just leave your injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself! Baby!” Walking away from his bed, you exited the hospital room, tapping away on your phone.
A few minutes passed before you returned, seeing Bokuto sulking in the hospital bed, a familiar pout on his lips.
Your eyes softened as you gave him a smile. “Guess who just got two weeks off?”
– – – – –
The foundation of your relationship was built upon the fact that the two of you knew each other like no other; you loved each other like no other.
So how had everything culminated into such a mess?
“Bokuto.” You felt the way his body stiffened as you called his name.
“Yes,” he hesitated, “honey?”
“Do you remember what I told you a couple years ago? About what I thought of love?”
Feeling a prickling sensation in his nose, Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a few tears that had collected on his eyelashes.
His voice came out hoarse and weak as he whispered, “I could never forget.”
– – – – –
The sky was enveloped in a cloak of darkness, but not even the onslaught of exhaustion could prevent the two of you from leaning back on the picnic blanket to stare up at the shimmering stars.
“Baby?” Bokuto turned his head to where you lay beside him. You hummed in response, half of your attention taken by the stars.
“What do you think about love?”
You raised an eyebrow, rolling onto your side to fully look at your boyfriend.
The moonlight casted harsh shadows on his face, but the way he looked at you — eyes sparkling with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled into a light smile — softened the darkness surrounding the two of you.
“Where did that question come from?” You raised a hand to lightly trace over the curves and slopes of his face; your thumb caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch.
“Answer my question first, and then I’ll tell you.” His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at you. “Deal?”
You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Hm, three kisses please,” you said, wiggling three of your fingers.
Bokuto laughed, indulging you with a kiss to both of your cheeks and a final kiss to your lips.
“Okay, okay,” you giggled. “You asked me what I think about love?”
He nodded.
“Well,” you sighed, turning back to face the midnight sky above you, “I think that love is like the sky — the sun, to be specific. It’s always changing, and everything is so unpredictable about it. There’s so much potential for destruction in what the sky holds. But, there’s always one constant. Do you know what it is, Kou?” You looked at him.
“What is it, angel?” His golden eyes glimmered, as if they were holding stars themselves.
Adjusting your position on the picnic blanket (you curled closer into Bokuto, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders), you continued, “It’s the sun. No matter how much it rains or snows or whatever weather catastrophe is happening, the sun is always going to be there. Sure, you can have multiple suns like those Star Wars planets, but…” you trailed off, looking into his eyes. “... I think I’m happy with my one sunshine.”
Bokuto, ever the romantic, pulled you into a nearly-bone-crushing hug as he laughed into your shoulder. After peppering kisses to your neck and jaw, he pulled away to look at you. He sported the brightest smile, but something sparkled behind those eyes of his.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re getting cheesier than me.”
You groaned, leaning away from him, “Shut up, Kou!”
He giggled before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Now let’s get home before these mosquitoes eat us alive, honey.”
“And then you’ll tell me where you got that question from?”
“Of course, honey! I never break a deal!”
– – – – –
How could he forget what you said? Every word you’ve ever spoken to him, he’s grasped onto like a lifeline, as if they would be your last. He was so close to bursting — so close to pulling himself off of your lap, looking into your pretty eyes, grasping your shoulders, and yelling at you, screaming at you, asking why you would think he could ever forget anything about you. How dare you think he could ever forget anything about you?
But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. Not anymore.
He didn’t realise that you’d gone silent — his world had gone silent — until your sniffles broke his reverie. His arms tightened around your waist as his head nuzzled into your stomach once again; it was a broken act of comfort.
“Honey,” the edges of his voice cracked as he called out for you. “Talk to me. Please. Don’t… don’t stay quiet.”
Being met with another bout of silence was almost excruciating. Bokuto was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his head above the water before he drowned in his thoughts of losing you.
He launched himself up from your lap, grabbing your face with shaky hands. He had tears running down his face once again. His face was blotchy, and his hair was a mess. He was a mess.
“Please, lovey,” he whispered. If you stayed silent just one minute longer, he’d collapse. He was sure of it. Fighting the urge to just sit himself in your lap, pull you tight against him, and beg you not to leave, Bokuto settled with caressing the skin under your shirt.
Finally, you broke the silence.
“I forgot to tell you one thing that night.” You moved your hand from where it was resting in his hair back to your side; he tensed at the loss of your touch.
He swallowed, his anxiety began to pile up once again. “What’d you forget, baby?”
“Even though the sun” — your voice cracked — “is a constant, sometimes it can be too much. Burn too bright and dry up everything underneath the sky. Sometimes...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow back the lump that was growing in your throat. “Sometimes the sun can do even worse harm than anything the sky could do.”
Bokuto could feel the gradual increase of his heartbeat. He shook his head, his fingers involuntarily digging into your skin. No, no, you didn’t mean that. You couldn’t mean that. If you did he… he didn’t know what he would do.
“I’m sorry, Bokuto,” you murmured, “I can’t stay here any longer.”
You tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he wouldn’t relent. His arms were shaking as he pulled you even closer into him. He was whispering something to himself.
“Bokuto, I’m being serious.” You tried to keep your voice stable but failed miserably — it all came out shaky, your tone uneven. “Let me go.”
His whispers grew louder until you could finally understand what he was saying.
“No, no. This isn’t real. I love you. I love you. No, don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I love you.”
You called his name. Once, twice, thrice. As you called for him, his whispers grew to full-blown cries.
“Bokuto!”
“I’M SORRY DON’T LEAVE ME!”
But the only thing your eyes chose to focus on was the trail of red and purple leading down his neck.
You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes, a feeling that had grown familiar to you in the past few hours.
Bokuto caught the wandering of your eyes down his neck, a faraway mist muddled the irises he loved gazing into; he realised what you were staring at, forcing down a choked sob. He clenched his jaw, violently cursing himself for making you feel like you weren’t enough, like you weren’t the one keeping him standing straight.
Like you weren’t his sun, moon, stars, and whatever else you filled the fucking sky with.
He gently moved your head, trying to get you to look back into his eyes and away from the bruised mistake that marred his skin. His thoughts only filled with one thing — “Come back to me, baby.”
Waves of relief crashed against him once you met his eyes.
“Baby– Angel– I’m so– I don’t– Please–” Bokuto struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Not when you stared at him with an iciness that pierced his heart every time he looked back into your eyes, hoping to find even the smallest trace of love left for him.
He let out a rough sigh, frustrated with his inability to speak through the racing of his heart. His hands, still cupping your face, lightly squeezed your cheeks to ground himself. He looked back to you, his eyes swimming with even more tears, trying to send a message to you that he couldn’t put into words.
You looked away from him, focusing on the ticking clock on the wall as you gnawed your lip. A question had been running through your mind ever since he cracked into your resolve to leave and pulled you to the sofa, laying his head in your lap.
Your eyes turned back to him.
“Can you tell me something, Bokuto?”
“Yes, yes, baby, of course. I’ll do anything you want.” He eagerly nodded, a small spark of hope sparkled within him.
“Why’d you lie?”
He felt as though you just dumped him into one of Atsumu’s god-awful ice baths.
“What’re you saying, angel?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“Earlier,” you croaked. “I asked you earlier how long you’ve been” — you couldn’t say that word; it’d hurt too much — “messing around.”
A glint of recognition passed his eyes.
Continuing, you forced your voice out, even though it grew weaker the more you tried to hide your pain, “You said that it was just this once. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”
Fuck. Bokuto took his hands away from your face, opting to grasp one of your hands in his. He gave your knuckles a kiss before looking back at you, his eyes teeming with unadulterated guilt and desperation.
“I-I knew them before this ever happened. We met at one of the team parties, but you weren’t there because you were at work.” He saw a glimpse of darkness shadow over your face, and his heartbeat picked up again (not that it ever really settled). “But we never did anything! Not until last night, at least.” His voice grew quiet at the end.
“And never once did it occur to you to tell them that you were taken?”
Bokuto’s lips started trembling — no doubt he’d begin crying again. He looked down, trying to avoid your glare, but his grip on your hand never loosened.
“Please, baby. I’m so sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up in the worst way possible. But I promise you, I never did anything with them before. We just talked at that one party. I promise you that. I promise, honey.”
The look in your eyes became even colder, even more distant; something akin to hatred was present as well. No, this couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare was coming true. You’d finally learned the truth and were going to leave him. You might have called him your sunshine that one night two years ago, but, to him, you were his oxygen — without you, he was truly nothing. Just a corpse of a man, not worth wasting a breath on.
He was losing you. Again.
“I’m leaving, Bokuto.” You roughly pulled your hand from his grasp, ignoring his cries for you to please stop, to listen for just a minute longer. “Don’t you dare try to look for me.”
Bokuto whimpered, following you to where you were trying to pick up your bags in your haste of anger. Once again, he tugged at the straps, trying to steal them away from you, but his arms grew weak at the scowl pointed his way.
His breath quickened, and his heart raced. He was panicking, grasping at straws to have to rethink your choice and stay with him so he could apologise for the rest of both of your lives. He’d spend the remainder of eternity begging for your forgiveness if only you’d just stay with him.
But he couldn’t say a word. Not with his blinded panic, and definitely not with the terrible, agonising look you were giving him as you stared back at him.
Was this how you felt when he’d walked out on you last night? Hopeless. Defenseless. As if you weren’t even worth a grain of sand underneath the other’s shoe.
“Lovey, I’m sorry!” Bokuto cried out one more time, hoping that he’d reach out to whatever small piece of love you still held for him. “I said I’m sorry! Please just forgive me, don’t leave me. Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it a million times over. Just, please,” he quieted to a whisper, just barely reaching your ears, “stay with me, and we can get through this together.”
His face crumpled as he heard your responding scoff.
“There’s no more ‘together’ for us, Bokuto.”
Your words stung — well, they stung as much as a gunshot or a knife to the heart would sting. He pressed on, desperate to get you to hear him out.
“I’m your sunshine, right? Your dovey. Your babe. Your pretty boy. Your Koutarou. Right?” He gripped onto the hem of his shirt, balling his hands into fists. “No matter what you call me, I’m yours. And I always will be. Even if you leave me right now, I’ll never stop looking for you. You know why?”
You stayed silent.
“Because I am just as much your sun as you are mine.”
His words echoed in your mind — that twisted, gnawing feeling came back in your gut. You knew that if you stayed for one more minute, it’d be over for you, and you’d go running back into his arms that always held you so tightly. Into his arms that smelt like home. Into his arms that made you feel like you were on top of the world as long as he was by your side. Into his arms that held onto another once the two of you reached a rough patch.
You made your decision.
“Koutarou…” His head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide and glittering with a false sense of hope. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”
There was another feeling growing within Bokuto. It was ugly, festering in the deepest parts of his mind — coming from a place that refused to acknowledge his faults. This feeling, it blamed
you. Why would you hurt him like this? How could you hurt him like this? You said he was your sunshine, your dovey, your Koutarou! How cruel could you be to lead him on, calling him ‘Koutarou’ again? You said you loved him!
“Don’t leave me!” He raised his voice. This feeling was taking over him, and it was angry. “If you leave, I’ll-I’ll…” His voice trailed off as he tried to regain control of himself.
Your brows furrowed. He still had the energy to yell, huh?
“You’ll what?” You took a step toward him. He looked away from you, trying to avoid your burning gaze. “Tell me, Koutarou. What will you do if I leave?”
He shook his head; you knew what that meant — “I won’t say it.”
“You’ll go back to them, won’t you?” you scoffed. “Have fun, Koutarou.”
Adjusting the straps of your bags, you gave him one last glare before moving toward the door once more.
That feeling came back in Bokuto’s mind, and it was stronger than ever. Pounding against the walls he built up, it roared, telling him to make you regret hurting him, make you think twice about leaving him. Bokuto was panicking, his will to beg you to stay was growing weaker as the feeling inside him became increasingly angry at you for causing him so much pain.
He knew he’d regret the next words he’d say to you, but that realisation came a second too late.
“I’ll never forgive you!”
You froze. Turning back around to face him, your eyes narrowed. “What?”
“If you leave me, I’ll never forgive you!”
His eyes were burning into you, a raging fire behind them.
“You’ll never forgive me?” you spat.
As quickly as the fire grew, it was extinguished as Bokuto’s expression morphed into one of shock.
“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean it! I promi–”
Dropping your bags by the door, you strided toward his figure. Pushing him against the wall, you pulled him in by the collar, melding his lips with yours.
The kiss was rough, angry, desperate — an amalgamation of everything you’ve felt in the past few hours going back and forth with Bokuto.
You pushed yourself into the space between his legs as he finally recovered from his shock and tried to match your tempo, his hands pulling you close into his body. Your teeth clashed together, and you had half the mind to bite his tongue in your mouth, but you held back.
Raking your fingers through his hair, you pulled his head back, ignoring his small, pained whine. The offensive mess of red and purple blotches still covered the expanse of his neck. A scowl grew on your face.
Bokuto yelped as he felt your lips latch onto his neck, sucking your own bruises over the ones already existing from his escapade. You were rough, unrelenting in your nearly-primal way of claiming him.
Trying to ignore your satisfaction from hearing his whimpers of your name, you pulled away, looking at your series of marks covering the ones from his other lover. The two of you were left panting — him trying to meet your eyes and you trying to avoid looking at him at all costs.
Leaning into his ear, you placed a gentle bite on his lobe. He tensed ever-so-slightly.
“You’ll never forgive me if I leave?” you hummed.
His hands that were under your shirt, roaming across your back, froze.
“B-Baby, wait, I didn’t–” He tried to plead with you until your next words completely shattered what was left of his broken, battered heart.
“I think I can live with that.”
You quickly backed away from him, evading his attempts to grab at your waist to stop you from leaving, and picked up your bags by the door. Looking back at him one last time, you nearly broke your facade.
After all he’s done, you still loved your Koutarou — no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise — and seeing him on his knees, sobbing, begging you not to leave for the umpteenth time, your will was wearing thin.
“Goodbye, Koutarou.”
The slam of the front door echoed across the remnants of his shattered heart and all he had the strength to do was cry. Pulling at the strands of his hair, he sobbed, begging into the air, weeping with no one to listen to him.
Without you, his world had no sky; everything was bathed in the shadow of your absence.
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tags: @katelyns-stuff @random-fandom-girl-24
#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto x reader#tw: cheating#tw: swearing#gn!reader
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