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missnxthingg · 9 months ago

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𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - Little throwback to Lando's win in Miami for the sake of the story. I think we all Lando girlies need to relieve this for a moment 🧡 raise a hand if you miss this moment (bc I surely do).

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

yourusername

London, England

yourusername Enjoying some time with my best friend at home 💖

landonorris wonder who gave her that dollhouse 🤔

landonorris my pretty girls, i miss you

↪ yourusername stop whinning and go enjoy ur trip, dickhead (we miss u too) ↪ landofan4 friendship goals fr

ln4stan Ollie is the cutest omg

yourmomusername What lovely ladies! I love you

↪ yourusername we love you, momma

username1 we need to see this duo with lando again

f1gossip

f1gossip Lando Norris is enjoying King's Day with his friend, Martin Garrix, in Amsterdam, and ended up getting his nose injured. What do you think happened?

username1 did he get into a fight????

username2 for fuck sake, we have a race in a week!

username3 omg bless y/n so she can try making his image better for the media in miami

username4 i NEED to know what happened with him

username5 @.yourusername mother, feed us with info, please! 🥺

yourusername added to their stories

Caption: He's well and alive, might kill him later for the scare (just a glass cut, no fighting)

landonorris added to their stories

Caption: This is an apology for making her so concerned about a nose cut

landopriv added to their stories

Caption: Gave her the scare of her life @.yourusername and made up to her after a cuddling afternoon, brunch, NBA game and tomorrow the beach

↪ yourusername replied to your story: all forgiven after the pampering 💘 ↪ landopriv: love you, idiot

yourusername added to their stories

Caption: Who let this idiot bring a camera along with him? Keep him away from me. Every time I blink: FLASH!

↪ landonorris: you're no fun 🙄

yourusername

Miami, Florida

yourusername Miami on film 🏖

landonorris you're as hot as miami, baby

↪ username1 OH MY FUCKING GOD ↪ username2 boy is down bad for her 🥵 ↪ username3 Lando can't even pretend he isn't in love with her anymore ↪ yourusername police he has escaped again

username4 do you guys think he took the photos or that she stole his camera?

↪ username5 he definitely took them! we saw him carrying the camera everywhere and they were at the beach earlier

f1 LANDO NORRIS WINS HIS FIRST GRAND PRIX

landofan HE DID IT GUYS!

mclarengirly OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE

ln4bitch oh man we just know he's gonna party HARD

yourusername I've never been more proud 🥺

↪papayafan y/n please tell lando we love him! 🧡 ↪lanfan4 give him the biggest kiss and the tighest hug for me

landonorris

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1

username1 WE DID IT LANDO!

username2 Longest time coming! Congratulations, Lan 🧡

username3 My man!!! LFG

yourusername I AM THE PROUDEST

yourusername love you so much, you idiot. P FUCKING ONE! 🧡

↪landonorris i love you more, muppet ❤ ↪username4 your honor, i love them ↪username5 MOM AND DAD ARE GIVING PDA

f1gossip

f1gossip Lando Norris and his best friend, Y/N L/N, partying together in Miami after his win. Some people that were at the party reported on our DMs that they didn't keep away from each other all night and were missing from the party for a while. Do you think they celebrated it in a more special way? 💋👀

username1 Lord, I'm ready for them to be a couple

username2 i saw they leaving the club hand in hand last night, guys! they were alone and very much in a hurry to get out of there

↪username3 how do you know if you're telling the truth? ↪username2 you can check my profile, i was at the paddock today and after the gp, my friend and i followed them around town to party too!

username4 i saw this dude that swore they were kissing in the back of the club ln, but it's not something i can 100% confirm

↪username5 Can we please stop speculating on their friendship? They both have expressed they hate when people start forcing a relationship onto them.

username6 at this point, i'm just waiting for y/n's special post for lando on insta

yourusername

Miami, Florida

yourusername I knew you were special on the first time I saw your muppet face in my office. I've been your biggest fan ever since; rooting and praying for this day to finally come. I've never been so proud of you, Lan. Longest time coming to this moment. I love you so much, my grand prix winner – even though you got me so drunk we missed our flight today. Now enjoy some podium pics I took yesterday + a cute one from the hottest duo in Miami last night.

tagged: landonorris

landonorris I love you so much! Can't imagine life without my partner in crime. You being there made everything even more special

↪yourusername Stop or I'll cry again ↪landonorris Will be an honour to make you cry for me twice 😂

username1 GUYS WAKE UP Y/N POSTED ABOUT LAST NIGHT

username2 name a prettier friend duo, i'll wait

↪landonorris me too ↪yourusername me three

yourmotherusername Olivia has been non stop since the finish line! She can't wait to see her favourite uncle ❤ Congratulations, Lando

↪landonorris thank you so much, mrs l/n ❤ and tell ollie uncle lan loves her very very much ↪username3 now we're gonna have to wait until ollie and lando reunion after miami 😭 ↪yourusername promise to come back with pictures

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

#lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris social media #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au #ln4 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 smau #ln4 social media #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

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heavenlyraindrops · 7 months ago

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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter One

also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death, addiction, and prostitution

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter One:

The undercity was certainly something.

Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.

Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.

It was ridiculous.

After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.

You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun.

You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.

Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.

Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.

Until-

“Fuck.”

You froze in horror.

Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.

A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled.

“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.

“…But can I have a cigarette?”

His expression dropped.

You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.

“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.

I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.

Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”

He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”

“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”

“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.

“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl.

“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

You planted a foot out into the street.

“That’s her!”

You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.

“Fucking run!”

Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.

Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof.

“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.

“I’m sorry, mister…”

“Silco.”

You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”

The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.

“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”

“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”

“Not generosity. Justice.”

He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”

“So, one favour.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”

You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”

“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”

“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.

At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving.

“Zaunite.”

“Wh-what?”

“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.

“Right.”

It fell silent.

“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.

“Thanks… I guess?”

He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”

He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”

“The cats?”

“The women, [name].”

“Well, what else would you go there for?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”

“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”

“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”

“And what would you consider immoral?”

You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…

“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.

“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”

You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”

“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”

“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.

After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”

“The father?”

You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.

“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”

��What became of him?”

“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.

He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.

“Wait-“

You looked up.

“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re everâ€¦ looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”

Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.

“Goodbye, [name].”

You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.

When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.

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littlebirdygirlywriting · 2 months ago

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Unpleasant Anniversaries

Daredevil Masterlist || Based on this request!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every year, it was the worst week of your life. A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries. But when you sleep through your alarm for work, you don’t expect a certain Matt Murdock to come knocking at your door. Or that you’d confess the feelings you have for him.

Author’s Note: I can’t believe I reference a game of truth or dare so often in this fic just to not be able to come up with what the dare would be. Smh. Sorry guys. You can use your imagination I guess. 😂 Thank you SO MUCH for the request anon!! I hope it’s everything you were hoping it would be and that it’s not too cliche… (And that it’s not too long, because this baby really got away on me. 😬) This is actually my first time writing (or at least posting) for the DD fandom, so please let me know if I’m OOC!

Warnings: Angst (but with a happy ending), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Parental Death, Cussing, References to Alcohol and Hangovers, no use of y/n (I’m getting pretty good at back flipping and somersaulting around it, but I still apologize if it comes off clunky), Fluff at the end (because what’s the point of hurt/comfort if we don’t have some cute, fluffy comfort??), Love Confessions. I’m posting this without editing, and yes, that is a warning. (I am SO going to regret this decision later, but I am way too tired to edit).

Word Count: 2.3k

———————————————————————————

This cannot be happening. I cannot be falling in love with Matt Murdock.

It was stupid, really. The stupidest thing that had caused you to realise it.

Freaking Foggy.

Granted, you couldn’t entirely blame him. You were far too old to succumb to peer pressure anyway. Far too old to be playing Truth or Dare with a six-pack of beer and the exhaustion of an emotional week under your belt.

A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries.

The anniversary of your mother’s death, the anniversary of your long-term boyfriend breaking up with you for your best friend, your birthday. Bing, bang, boom…back-to-back.

Every year, it was the worst week of your life, and you just wanted something fun and lighthearted and silly enough to make you forget about the ache wrenching your heart in two.

Stupid. Stupid anniversaries and stupid emotions and stupid, stupid, STUPID, idiotic game.

It was juvenile, and you cursed yourself for going along with the idea. Because now, you had another item to add to the list.

And the week wasn’t even over yet.

A steady thumping at your door matched the rhythm pounding in your head, your name spoken through the thin wood.

Peeking through cracked eyelids revealed afternoon sunlight streaming into your apartment, the alarm clock beside your bed happily displaying 12:05pm.

Shit!

You bolted upright in bed, groaning as your head throbbed in protest. Another series of knocks rapped against your door, followed by your name again. Double shit!

Matt.

Stumbling out of bed, you grit your teeth against the headache and tripped your way to the door, fumbling with the lock and cursing your hangover. The drinking hadn’t stopped once you got home, and you were really starting to regret that decision.

The lock clicked, and before Matt even had a chance to step into the apartment, apologies were spewing from your lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Matt. It won’t happen again. I must’ve slept through the alarm or forgot to set it or something, but it won’t happen again, I promise. I—”

The words were spilling out of you like a river, and even you were struggling to make sense of them. Embarrassingly, tears pricked the backs of your eyes, something that only deepened the ache pounding through your skull.

“Hey.” Matt dropped his cane in the entryway, door closing behind him and strong, steady hands placed groundingly on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad. Foggy, Karen, and I were just worried when you didn’t show up to work. We thought somebody better come check on you.”

That was…really sweet.

And the floodgates opened.

Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your body, every ounce of hurt and despair and loneliness bottled up for the last several years breaking through your carefully-constructed walls and flowing like a wellspring onto the hardwood floor.

For a second, Matt froze, stunned, and you wanted to kick yourself. This was not what Matt had signed up for by volunteering to come check on you. If anything, he was probably wishing right now that Karen or Foggy or literally anyone else had offered to go instead.

“I’m–I’m sorry.” You tried to apologize for crying, for not showing up to work, for being a crazy, messed-up disaster that Matt certainly shouldn’t have to deal with.

His arms wrapped around you, warm and comforting, and despite your best intentions, you found yourself melting into the touch, clinging to the front of his dress shirt and probably ruining it with your tears.

“I’m–I’m sorry, Matt. I–”

“Shhh.” He interrupted you with a hum, gently resting his chin on top of your head, strong arms locked securely around you.

Still, you felt the need to explain.

“It’s–it’s just a really rough week for me, but I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. I always end up fine. I just–”

He shushed you again quietly, warm hands running soothing strokes up and down your back. The tears began to slow, and you hiccuped before attempting to take a long, controlled breath.

“That’s it. That’s good. Just breathe.”

His hands didn’t stop moving, and you closed your eyes, savouring the touch for however long it would last. Burying yourself in the comfort of it.

Maybe you could make a piece of this moment last forever.

When a deep, shuddery sigh expelled itself from your lungs, Matt stepped back, head tilting as his hands rested back on your shoulders, seeming to be listening for something. What, you didn’t know. Concern marred a crease on his forehead though, and another wave of guilt roiled in your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was small and weak, pathetic. “Matt, I’m so–”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.” His tone was firm, brooking no argument. His hand started stroking up and down your arm. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I was late for work.” The words fell to the floor with your gaze.

“We got by for the morning.”

You squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the ache behind your eyes barely manageable. “I made you guys worry.”

His tone remained smooth, calm. “That’s okay. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“And…” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, worrying your lip between your teeth. “I got tears on your shirt.”

A wry smile tilted his lips, and you could just picture the amusement dancing behind those red glasses. “I’ll live, and it’ll wash.”

“I just…” You sighed, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, trying to uproot the headache that seemed to be drilling a hole through your skull. “I just wish this week was over.”

The tips of his fingers danced over your arm, and his voice became low, tender. “Why?”

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but you forced them back, swallowing down the lump attempting to rise in your throat.

Could you tell him? Could you really, truly trust him with this information? Would it make him look at you differently? Would it make him see you as broken?

“It just…” You paused, hesitating. “It’s just got some bad memories attached to it, is all.” Then, before you could stop yourself. “Did you know my mom died six years ago yesterday?”

Matt frowned, lips twitching like he wanted to speak.

But you kept going.

“Heart attack. The doctors never saw it coming. I was in my first year of university…” You swallowed, bitter memories you regularly kept locked away rising to the surface. “I was on the plane when she passed—didn’t even know until my dad met me at the airport.”

Your name drifted from his lips, hushed and sad. It should make you stop—it should make you shove the feelings back into a box, lock them up tight, and forget about them forever. Instead…

“Two years later, this great guy came into my life. Smart, funny…” Almost as handsome as you. You pushed the thought aside and continued. “We were talking about marriage. Family, kids. We would buy a house on the coast, right next to his parents. We were going to be so happy…”

The memory played out before your eyes. Big house, a dog, 2.5 children—you’d even talked colour schemes, baby names. Had tentatively set a date for just after graduation.

“Until the doctors thought they found something on one of my routine screenings. Suddenly, ‘in sickness and in health’ became a little too close to home. He was sleeping with my best friend before I even had a chance to tell him it was a false alarm.”

By the hard set of his jaw, Matt was less than pleased to hear about your piece-of-shit ex, lips pressed firmly together like he might be trying to keep himself from having a word with him this very moment.

A near-hysterical laugh floated up from your chest, heart ripping apart inside you.

“It was really a stupidly shitty thing to do on someone’s birthday, but hey, live and learn I guess. Just gives me one less reason to celebrate. It hasn’t been the same since my mom passed anyway…”

His head tilted sharply. “Your birthday is this week?”

A small, pathetic nod tipped your chin. “Today, actually.”

Matt’s jaw worked, expression so pained you thought for a second he might be more hurt by the knowledge than you were.

“And then, of course, I’m stupid enough to play Truth or Dare, get so outrageously drunk that I sleep through my alarm, and if I worked for anyone other than you, I would’ve been fired on the spot, so…” The headache was splitting your brain in two. You needed an aspirin. “Icing on the cake.”

Walking into the kitchen to dig through your cupboards for the pill bottle and a glass of water, you genuinely hoped Matt would leave it as is. It was stupid—nothing but a hard week and an off day and two minutes of word vomiting. Or maybe closer to ten. Either way, you just wanted to keep your head low and forget about this little outburst until the end of the week, when you could cry properly.

Of course, you should’ve known better than to think Matt would leave it alone.

“Okay, first of all,” he said, following you into the kitchen, “you would not have been fired from any other job. You’ve been nothing but punctual every other day of the year—one bad day doesn’t scrap a perfectly good record. And second–” he interrupted your protest with a furrowed brow and his hand raised in the ‘stop’ position. “You were not that drunk when you left the office yesterday. What happened?”

You winced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, and you delayed by popping the aspirin in your mouth with a swig of water. When you were finished, Matt was still waiting.

“Nothing.”

He scoffed, and you tried not to let it hurt. “Nothing?”

“That’s what I said, Matt.” Whoa, you did not mean for your tone to be so sharp, but there was no stopping it now. “Maybe I had a few more when I got home. Maybe I had a whole case. Maybe—” your voice cracked, and tears pricked your eyes again. “Maybe I just didn’t want to think about my dead mother or my cheating ex or the fact that when I took that fucking dare yesterday, I didn’t realise I had feelings for you until it was too late. And I—” Tears flooded the dam, dripping down your cheeks, your words breaking on a sob. “I can’t have feelings for you, because all they ever do is get me hurt…and I can’t handle any more hurt, Matt. I can’t! I can’t–-”

For the second time that day, you dissolved into sobs, the sheer force of pain clefting you in two like a tidal wave.

Through a haze of tears, you watched Matt hesitate, hand flexing, before stepping forward and slowly wrapping his arms around you, keeping you together when you were sure you would fall apart.

The reality of what you’d just confessed washed over you, embarrassment now mixing with the sadness to create a whirl of agonising pain.

You wanted to choke on the feelings.

“I’m–I’m sorry, Matt.” Your words were so garbled, you have no idea how he understood them.

But he did.

“What did I say earlier?” he soothed, warm hand stroking up and down your back again. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

God, you wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that you hadn’t just ruined your career confessing feelings for your boss. Wanted to believe that he wouldn’t just slowly disappear from your life, like a ship in the night, fading out of friendship, out of reach of a lighthouse.

Your body bucked and hiccuped, lungs struggling for air through the emotion filling your chest. His arms tightened around you.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Shhhh.” His lips graced your hairline—a soft kiss, tender—before he again rested his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe, okay?”

You shook your head, the salt-stained fabric of his shirt swishing against your ear. “No. Matt, I ruined everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I ruined everything!”

Grasping fistfuls of his shirt in shaky hands, you felt his jaw shift atop your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “I—God, I…I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

You sniffed, wiping the tear stains off your cheeks with his shirt. “Told me what?”

He paused, chest expanding with a breath, like he was preparing himself for something.

“That I…I have feelings for you too.”

“Don’t patronize me, Murdock,” you snipped, attempting to push out of his arms, because that’s just what you didn’t need, someone to make fun of the emotions that you already knew were stupid.

He held you fast.

“I’m not. I promise you I’m not.” The conviction in his voice was almost enough to convince you of the truth on its own. And if it wasn’t, his heart racing against your fingertips, chaotic and wild, certainly was. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, sweetheart. I–I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

He smiled sheepishly, and the world moved in slow motion.

“You…love me?” A whisper is too loud to describe the question you breathed, but Matt chuckled, the tips of his ears flushed a dusty shade of pink.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, slight crease between his brows, carefully regarding your reaction.

“Matt Murdock…” you breathed, wiping the final few tears off your cheeks and looking up into his red glasses. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

He frowned. “Then we really need to fix that.”

You laughed, a real, genuine laugh, probably the first one this entire week, and melted back into his arms.

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charlotteking27 · 1 year ago

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Can I request any headcanon or Oneshot of Batmom calling the Batfamily by their names? Batmom always calls them nicknames (sweetie, babybird or somenthing), so the Battys think she's upset.

Sorry if it's written wrong or it is not understood!! My main language is not English 😓😓

sure I would love to.

NICKNAMES

Early in the morning, Batmom lies there in her bed staring at the wall. At 6 in the morning, no one was awake except for the infamous Batman sitting next to her.

"Honey, what's wrong why are you up?" To Bruce, it was very unusual to see her up early for she had a habit of sleeping till 10 in the morning.

"Nothing Bruce", and Batmom stood up from her bed and left for the bathroom.

"SHIT, SHIT! what did I do?"

that's all he could think because she NEVER called him Bruce unless she was upset at him. He thinks of all the things he had done the latest skipping a gala and lying to her about an emergency when he was really hanging out with Superman and Wonderwomen.

Batmom came out of the bathroom and left towards the kitchen. There Tim sat at the table with a huge cup of coffee in his hand. He expected a hi or hello but nothing just an awkward silence.

"Hey Mom", but she grunted and said, "hi Tim."

OH MY GOSH, Tim was in complete panic, forgetting about his coffee. She always calls me Timmy, Fuck what did he do?

Finally, Dick comes and sees Tim in complete panic. "What's wrong with you?"

All Tim does is point. To Dick's shock, he points at his mother. Dick thought nothing of it and greeted his mom and gave her a hug like every morning. But to his surprise, His mom didn't greet him back nor return the hug.

"Mama, are you okay? I am fine Dick"

What where's my nickname. Dick looks at Tim and Tim just looks completely horrified. He sees his mom leave and goes back upstairs.

"Alright, Tim fess up what did you do?" said dick. "Me this could have been easily you, Maybe Mom found out about you breaking her very expensive vase," Tim said defending himself. "Well, it's not like you are innocent, Mom probably found out that you're the one who's been finishing all her expensive French coffee," Dick said as a comeback.

"Alright Dickhead, why is mom so angry?" Jason comes walking behind him, "I have no clue she's been acting strange all morning AND SHE DIDN'T CALL ME BY MY NICKNAME," Dick says wiping his tears.

jason says, "Huh same, she usually calls me Baby Bird but she just stood there staring at me". "Maybe, Jason, she found out how you snook out to patrol even though you are grounded," Tim says. Jason says in response, probably... "WAIT how did you know about that Tim. I Know everything... you have cameras around the house don't you Tim," Dick said. "Maybe, Idk", Tim said with an evil grin.

"Okay, guys come on let's go upstairs and apologize to whatever we did," Dick said. "Fine Dickh"-, Jason said but was interrupted... AHHHHHHHHH

"what the hell! I think my eardrum exploded," said Tim

"come on guys, someone could be in trouble," Dick said. "Okay, dickhead calm down," Jason says.

"Damian what's wrong, Ummi said Damian instead of Dami. What did you idiots do this time?"

"Hold on demon spawn we didn't do anything let's ask Dad," Tim suggested.

"Dad, what's happening with mom?" Dick says

"I don't know Dick your mother has been acting weird since this morning and she even woke up early like 6 in the morning early." [GASP], Bruce answers.

"Damn, what the hell did we do?" Damian says.

"shut up demon spawn, I am trying to think," Jason continues.

"Hi, kids... MOM/UMMI!!," Batmom says out of nowhere.

"Kids, I am very disappointed in you," Batmom continues

"But mom we don't even know what we did wrong," dick said, and collectively everyone said yeah.

"Sweethearts, why is there a FUCKING COW on my lawn," Batmom yelled out.

"OHHHHHHHH, yeah Mom we all decided to get a cow," Dick answered truthfully. "Shhhhh dickhead don't get me involved," Jason says slapping Dick behind his head

"Well, I am so glad you told me what happened, so here you go," Batmom says while handing everyone a paper.

"What's this Honey?" Bruce said while taking the paper in his hand

"well, that's the list of chores and you all are grounded for a month!!!" Batmom said yelling.

"WAIT, DOES THAT MEAN I AM GROUNDED FOR TWO MONTHS STRAIGHT", Jason shouted in fear.

"No, Babybird, you all are grounded for two more months since you all exposed yourself when trying to figure out why I was upset with you guys", Batmom said with her hands on her hips.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!," Jason shouted.

#batmom imagines #batfam x reader #batmom #batman #batfam x batmom #batmom imagine #batmom!reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd #damian wayne #damian al ghul #tim drake #dick grayson #batman and robin #batman x batmom

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vampiradelmal · 10 months ago

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patrick hockstetter x naive fem reader? 😋

this has been in my inbow for about a year. TW: Patrick, mocking religion, Patrick gets his own second warning

The Pastor's Daughter

Patick x Fem!Reader Patrick Hockstter is God.

In his own head, of course.

However, before he is a part-time self-proclaimed god, he is also the son of Patricia "Trisha" Hockstetter, Derry's most devout Baptist.

And while he could usually get away with skipping out on Sunday mass, this one was different. A new pastor was being brought into the church as the last pastor had gone to the pearly gates, and Trisha, eager to push her son closer to God, forced him to go with her.

After a long morning of arguing, Patrick was forced into his Sunday best, booted into the car, and forced to follow his grinning mother down the aisle. Aside from the laughable idea of there being other gods, Patrick's least favorite part about church was entering to take a seat. The judgmental stares, the hushed whispers, the blearing white. It was enough to drive him insane. He idly gazed through the crowd of phony-worshippers, grinning pridefully whenever somebody would look his way in stunned horror—which was often.

Finally stopping at the second pew, his mother ushered him in, a beaming smile on her face despite the mischievous glint in her eyes. Patrick noted this, quirking his eyebrow at her.

"What?" he mouthed as he sat down, partially sitting on something. "Nothing," she whispered, unable to hide her smile.

"Excuse me?" A quiet voice whispered from beside Patrick. "I don't mean to bother you, sir, but you're sitting on my purse."

Patrick rolled his eyes, turning in annoyance. "Then yank it." He paused, staring at the girl before him. Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize... I thought you were a sir." You sheepishly laughed at your mistake, assuming Patrick was an older man. He stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he dissected every inch of you. Your eyes, your smile, your hair—the imaginary halo that glowed above your head.

"I am a sir," he growled, thinking you thought he was a girl.

"O-Oh? Really? Wow, you look so young!" You smiled wide, amazed by how young this "sir" looked.

"... Uh, yeah. I'm fucking 15, idiot." Patrick felt a sharp jab in his ribs, making him double over. He glared at his mom, who sneered at him until he turned back to face the girl. "My bad," he grumbled. The look of shock on your face was enough to make him smirk in amusement. Perhaps the most amused he'd ever felt in church.

"It's okay," you whispered. Your eyes were downcast as you tried to hold back a giggle. "You are very funny, uh... what is your name? Perhaps calling you sir would be weird as we are the same age." You looked back up into Patrick's eyes.

"Patrick." Another jab. "Hockstetter!" He glanced back at his mother, deeply annoyed with her antics. "Patrick Hockstter," he breathed out, placing his hand over his aching ribs.

You giggled politely, covering your mouth as you did. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Patrick. I'm-"

"The pastor's daughter, right?" Mrs. Hockstetter interjected, taking you by surprise. You hesitated a few seconds before nodding your head. Patrick slowly turned his head to look at his mother as her plan clicked in his head. Did she really think the pastor's daughter would be a good influence on him? The thought was laughable. But this god had his own plan—to humor his mother. To get even.

He turned back to you with a charming smile. Well, as charming as he could pull off. "It's lovely to meet you," he said, taking your hand in his and gently pressing a kiss on your knuckle, enjoying how your eyes shot open. Church was suddenly starting to feel very entertaining for this god.

But of course, your father had to ruin the fun when he came out to begin his sermon and the choir started. You hesitated to pull your hand away, your eyes lingering on his until he turned away. Patrick only pulled away to hide his smirk, though. He didn't give a shit about the sermon, or the choir, or whatever the fuck his future father-in-law was spewing.

For that full hour, he sat there plotting. Every move of his had to be calculated, and they were. Glances here and there, brushing his hand against yours, gently thumbing your skin whenever it was time to join hands. And from every move blossomed a new splotch of red on your cheeks, which appeased him greatly. Even his mother looked pleased, and it took Patrick every bone in his body to not laugh at her failure of a plan. Oh, how he was going to make her look like such a fool!

By the end of mass, Patrick had you wrapped around his twisted, kind of fucked up, burnt finger. And with this newfound power, he got himself a date with the pastor's daughter at the junkyard.

To his mother's surprise, Patrick left mass with a big goofy smile on his face, giddy as he thought of the fridge he was going to show you on Friday night.

#bowers gang #it 2017 #patrick hockstetter #it2017 #asks open #it #patrick hocksetter x reader #fem reader #it x reader #naive!reader #i suck at writing #sigh #anyway #deal with it <3

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a-hermit-pining · 4 months ago

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Gods Who Walk the Earth

AN: idk why I am obsessed with gods, I blame Percy Jackson. I love you guys so much for your comments, they make me smile like an idiot. Maybe I will make this into a series.

Pairing: Sylus x gn reader

Genre: cannon divergence

Summary: The first time he beheld the god of his people, the sight bled into his heart.

(I do not own these characters)

The first time he saw you, he was barely of age. Hidden behind his mother, Sylus bowed before the form of their god.

The power of creation itself lay mere feet away from him. Surrounded by offerings of gold, you slept.

The deity of dragons had been asleep for ages, recovering from the creation of the new world forged with your core. Gods walked the Earth, and you were one of them.

Sylus' palms sweated; it had only been a few years since he'd mastered the art of shifting forms. None dared appear before you in their dragon form, except for younglings carried in by their parents to receive blessings.

And now he stood before you, smaller than your eye. YOUR EYE!

A golden eye stared back at him, heavy with sleep and blinking lazily.

The god gazed directly at him.

An echo filled the chamber as knees slammed onto the floor, all falling into reverence.

The god was awake. But Sylus remained frozen in place. His heart refused to slow, his throat dry.

Then, in a flurry of motion that left him blinking rapidly, you stood before him, in your humanoid form.

"I apologize for startling you." Your voice was clear, like a fresh spring. Ages of slumber had done nothing to dull its resonance.

That was the first time he beheld the god of his people. And the sight bled into his heart.

How does one differentiate love from reverence?

One doesn’t.

Of all the souls in the world, he fell in love with the most unattainable one.

Had he known what his feelings would lead to, he might have turned away.

For gods who fall for mortals are no longer gods, but voids.

And your end was the world's end. The devouring core in your heart retaliated, tearing through your mind, for wanting nothing less than all of your heart. Sylus had dared to make place for himself, where there should only be duty.

Until he took a part of it, a fragment of your heart embedded in his soul.

He became the monster who defied a god. The evil, who pried at your power. A traitor.

Until, consumed by the madness of your people, the world, and the core itself, your sword found his heart.

But his fragment did not rest in his heart.

It lay in the eye that had once beheld you.

Now he looks at you once again. A mortal, who is bound to carry a god's burden.

He is once again the young dragon, staring upon his god.

#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #angst #drabble #cannon divergence #god reader #dragon au #gn reader

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 years ago

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MC's older brother: *has arrived from studying four years in abroad and now bawling his eyes out*

MC's older brother: *is on the phone, talking with their mother* You don't understand, ma! They brought home a boy!

MC's older brother: This is clearly a violation of my rights! I'm older, BUT WHY THEY GET TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP FIRST?!

MC and Malleus: ...

Malleus: Are you in trouble?

MC: No. But unfortunately, we have to listen to his drama throughout the afternoon.

MC's older brother: *giving Malleus judging eyes*

Malleus: ...

MC: I'll hit you if you don't stop doing that.

MC's older brother: I'M his future brother-in-law. He should respect me.

MC: The fu— Is that what you've learned in abroad? To power trip?

MC's older brother: You don't understand because you didn't return single!

MC: ...

Malleus: My apologies. You must've felt unfortunate with your circumstances.

Malleus: Maybe changing your personality could help in finding yourself a partner.

MC: Pft—

MC's older brother: EXCUSE ME?!

MC: I'm done packing the stuff we need.

Malleus: Where are we going?

MC: The idiot inside will be throwing tantrums for a week. And it will be extremely annoying.

MC: So we're going to stay at my mom's house.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *smiles excitedly* I am going to meet mother-in-law?

MC: ...

MC: Malleus, are you trying to get us married?

Malleus: Why, yes. Is there a problem?

MC: ...

MC: No. But I suddenly have this feeling that someone is cursing me from afar.

Sebek: @#$_&-@)ASDFGHKJKL!!!####!!!

Idia: This is why I told you not to include an audio output, Ortho.

Ortho: ...

Silver: I feel so happy for Malleus.

Lilia: Hoho~ Looks like I'm going to have grandchildren soon.

Sebek: ORTHO!!! HELP ME TO GET THROUGH THIS MIRROR! I NEED TO BRING WAKA-SAMA BACK!!!

Ortho: I'm still working on that. But I'm afraid that we need to meet certain conditions before one of us can get through.

Ace: Just one? Geez. That's probably me.n

Ortho: No. I'm planning to send Vice-housewarden Lilia.

Lilia: Oh yeah! *laughs*

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst sebek #twst lilia #twst silver #twst idia #twst ortho #twst ace #malleus in the world of mc

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never-rxne · 12 days ago

Text

— "dream brother,"

character study. post canon. a letter sevika wrote to vander. || 1k words

"don't be like the one who made me so old don't be like the one who left behind his name 'cause they're waiting for you like i waited for mine and nobody ever came." —Jeff Buckley. "Dream Brother"

Vander,

It’s Sevika.

I’m the Zaunite Councilor now. The only one. You are dead and the war is over. For the first time in my life I have time to sit down and think. Never thought this is where it would all lead— never thought I’d end up writing a letter to you.

This is the first time I am speaking to you since I changed sides.

If you could read this, I know what you’d probably be thinking.

You were never that hard to read, you know that?

I won’t apologize for what I did. You know me well enough to understand. Or you don’t. It doesn’t matter either way.

I’m not writing this to defend myself. I’m not writing this to make you feel vindicated or guilty. You always said everyone in the Undercity had a story behind them.

Let me tell you mine.

You and I both knew what the city was like before the uprising at the bridge. We’ve both lost too much to forget—no matter how good we had it after, no matter how quiet things became.

How to say this?

Do you know what it’s like to join a fight on the losing side? To watch the people around you slip away without being able to do anything about it, to watch the city lose a little bit of its soul every day?

You do. Better than me.

What you don’t know is that before I met you, I was close to giving up. Going well down the same path as my old man. Letting my grief and anger sink me until I drowned at the bottom of a bottle. He drank himself to death after a few feeble kicks. Always thought I’d go the same way.

You told me that night at the Last Drop. I had just turned twenty, remember? That as long as there was one idiot left fighting for a cause, there was still a cause worth fighting for?

You said you were that idiot. Asked me if I was one too.

Vander, I was never good with words. You and Silco were the leaders, and when Silco left it was only you holding the Undercity together. You had your strength, Silco had his brains, Felicia had her empathy, I had my anger.

Let me ask you now, Vander, since everyone’s gone, who was the one idiot left fighting?

[The next few lines have been crossed out.]

I’m not angry anymore. Don’t have the same anger as my twenty-year-old self, anyway. I used to dream of crushing Piltover. Rising up and shaking them off like a horse tramples the flies that buzz around its head. I used to believe in the strength of Zaun, that all we needed was to keep looking forward at the same goal. I was young. I was stupid. I didn’t see there was no collective goal.

Everyone has a story behind them.

Everyone fought for their own.

Can’t say I understand now. Can’t say it wasn’t all for nothing, either. I watched as Vi and Powder unravelled you, and I watched as Jinx unravelled Silco. Here’s the truth, though.

Vander, if my little brother was still alive, he would have unravelled me.

His name was Ravi.

He was sixteen when I lost him. Cave-in at the mines.

Do you think it’s fair? That I’m sitting up here in a Piltover office, hair going gray, wearing a new jacket, while he will be sixteen in the Undercity—forever?

The day he died, my world went dark. Like a switch somewhere had been flicked off. I saw nothing—really nothing. Nothing ahead of me, nothing behind. Just the big empty space left behind by his death.

Then, I got angry.

Wanted to make the people responsible for his death pay for what they took from me. What they took from my mother. She never recovered from the loss of her only son. Neither did my father.

I always thought I recovered. That I was the only one out of my family who crawled out of the grief, made something from it. Turned it into strength.

I’m realizing now that I never did.

I wanted to meet violence with violence. I never really left my twenty-year-old self. Even when I told myself Silco posed the highest bid for freedom, it wasn’t really about freedom. It wasn’t about his vision of respect, either. It was about revenge. It was about watching Piltover crumble like my life did when I watched the light go out of my brother’s eyes. When I heard his weak voice saying my name, begging me to help him, to save him—and I couldn’t.

I heard his voice for years after in my dreams. Heard his voice in the echoes made by Zaunite kids in the streets. Saw his eyes in the Zaunite kids’ eyes. Saw his hope, his energy, in your kids. Powder and Vi.

Powder especially.

I think Ravi would have been friends with her. He had a tendency of making friends with everyone. My old man would say he could have been friends with a river monster, if he had the chance.

I’m rambling now.

I’m too tired to be angry anymore, Vander. Too old to keep fighting, too old to pass off vengeance as liberation. Nearing fifty now—I realize you were a similar age when you died. I may not live to see Zaun truly free. You didn’t. Silco didn’t. All I know is that I’ll keep working. And there are people now, multitudes, who will continue after I’m gone. Young Ekko, remember him? He’s got himself a place in the Undercity now. Leading the Firelights.

You at rest now, Vander? I hope you are. I can tell you Vi is alive and well. They’re still looking for Jinx. Have a feeling the Kiramman girl is pulling some strings to keep Jinx just a step ahead.

I’ll wrap this up now. There’s a meeting I have to be at in twenty minutes. If you saw me now…dressed up like this in Piltover garb, ready to argue for an hour with the same peacocks you heard me swear I’d drag out of their homes…well, I can practically hear your wheezing old laugh.

Take care, Vander. Blisters and Bedrock.

Sevika.

#oohh this one ran away with me #i love exploring her voice so much it's delicious #(may or may not have teared up writing this thinking of my own brother)#update after finishing: i may want to rewrite this #rune's fics #dream brother #sevika arcane #sevika angst #sevika headcanon #sevika fanfic #sevika

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loopizm · 3 days ago

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AWKWARD FIRST DATE

on your first date, hamzah's anxiety gets the best of him.

tw: description of vomit, anxiety, self deprecation and kms mention if you pay attention???

UNEDITED

Hamzah didn't feel good— he felt ill, in fact. He quickly washed his hands, feeling his mouth water and the charcuterie he ate 30 minutes ago slowly making its way back up.

"Fuck...okay you got this... You're just on a date." Hamzah looks in the mirror as he says that, trying to soothe himself.

Of course, that makes it worse.

"What the hell am I doing bruh..." He sighs before gagging.

He clutches the cool porcelin sink, his mind and body fighting against itself. He's sweating , and feels a headache creeping up his neck. Hamzah closes his eyes and splashes cold water on his face, blindly reaching for paper towels, he shivers.

"Shit, I can't– HURRRRG– throw up–OUGGGGH-"

His stomach clenches, but nothing comes out.

Adjusting the hat on her head head, Y/N checks the time on her phone.

"15 minutes...?" She mumbles aloud, reaching for a strawberry. Biting into it, she hums at the tartness, before dragging her eyes back to the lake, awing when she shes ducklings chase after their mother.

Adjusting her position on the blanket shes starts drumming her thighs, starting to get bored.

"Where the fuck is Hamzah?" She wonders, glancing behind her, looking at the restrooms.

'He couldn't had dipped, he left his stuff behind...' She thinks to herself, looking at his bag next to the picnic basket.

"Maybe he's taking a massive shit..." Y/N concludes, popping a grape into her mouth.

She waits another 10 minutes before deciding to check on him. Standing up, she wipes the crumbs of food before slipping her shoes back on.

The walk was short, and she knocks on the restroom door, her head angled to hear through the door better.

"Hamzah, are you okay in there?" Y/N asks loudly. Its silent for a little, before she hears a quiet 'yeah'.

She hears the sink turn on, then off. The lock on the door turns, and she quickly backs up and smiles as she sees the door open.

"Damn boiii, how big was that shit??!"

Hamzah smiles weakly and opens his mouth,

"Girl, don't pl- BLEGHHHHHH"

Hamzah throws up on Y/N's legs and shoes.

"AHHHHHHH!!! HAMZAH WHAT THE FUCK!!?!!??!??"

It was quiet in the Men's restroom, beside the sound of water running. Hamzah stood to the side biting his thumb and mentally beating himself up.

'GOD, I'm such a fucking idiot. She's never going to talk to me again after this!' He thinks to himself, sighing through his nose.

He glances at Y/N from the corner of his eye, watching her wash the clumps of vomit out of her sandals. He notices her scrunched up face in disgust, and Hamzah wishes a meteor will fall through the sky to crush him.

"Uh, I'm sorry about-" Hamzah starts, wringing his hands together.

"It's fine." Y/N cuts him off, speaking a little harshly, and he winces and runs a hand through his hair.

'Yeah she hates me' Hamzah thinks to himself, biting the inside of his cheek and kicks the tiled floor, shoes squeaking against it.

Y/N clears her throat. "Sorry for cutting you off, I didn't mean to come off as rude." She says, pausing to glance at hamzah before looking back at her shoes. "I'm not mad at you or- like upset or whatever... just a little grossed out.." She trails off and places her water logged shoes on the ground.

"God, I'm so sorry Y/N, I was really fucking nervous." Hamzah apologizes, scratching his head. "You're so gorgeous and funny and cool, and I'm just me." He gestures to himself. "Like who throws up on their date?!? I'm such an idiot, I really am sorry, Y/N"

Y/N flicks the water off of her hands and turns to body to fully look at Hamzah, resting her hands on her hips.

"Hamzah, you're literally the coolest person I know! Don't talk about yourself that way, I'm telling the truth about it being okay. I've been thrown up on like, a gazillion times before- I'm kinda desensitized to it."

He cocks his head at her statement, squinting his eyes in confusion.

"Y'know that doesn't matter– Anyways, you're fine Hamzah, I don't think of you any less just because you barfed on me." Y/N ends with a little giggle, making Hamzah crack a small smile.

"I think my shoes are ruined though... and I'm not willing to walk in soggy ass shoes," she mentioned, deciding to toss the shoes in the trashcan.

"Shit, I'm sorry about that— here," Hamzah says quickly, bending over to slip off his shoes.

"You don't have to do that Hamzah! I'm fine with walking barefoot in the grass," Y/N said, grabbing his arm to try and pull him up. "Plus I don't wanna raw dog your shoes with my bare feet," She adds.

Y/N was talking to a brick wall, and she ended up with his WAY larger shoes on her feet, and Hamzah shoeless in miss-matched socks.

"Are you sure about this? I'm fine being barefoot." Y/N asks again, Hamzah's shoes flopping everytime she takes a step.

"I'm good, it's the least I can do." Hamzah says huffing as he swings his arms.

"Soooooooo," Y/N sings out, smiling mischievously at Hamzah. "You were that nervous, huh?" She asks, nudging her shoulder against his.

"Was it because of how beautiful I am?" Y/N asks cheekily, putting her hands on her jaw and wiggles her fingers, batting her eyelashes at Hamzah teasingly.

"Boi shut the hell up boi!" He laughs, gently shoving her away. She giggles, stumbling away. As she walked ahead of him, a light bulb went off.

"Hey, the last person who makes it back to the blanket has to pay for the next date!" She yells, laughing as she got a head start.

"BRUH! You're such a cheater!" Hamzah yells back, chasing after her.

HEY GUYS!!! first post and this is like the first fic ive written and actually completed in YEARS!! im sorry if its a little bad im trying to get back in my groove!!! ive had the first sentence sitting around since i made this account and i just locked in and finished it in like an hour 💀 im thinking about making this a series..? what do y'all think.. 🧐 okay derry OUT!

#slushy noobz #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah fic #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah x y/n

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charmed-quill · 5 months ago

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Burrow Bound// B.W x Reader Chapter 12

authors note at end.

I was gonna wait a few more hours to post this but I am nothing if not impatient 😀

originally requested by @littlegreenteacup

summary: Y/N, an American half-blood witch newly arrived in Muggle London, stumbles into the warmth of the Weasley brothers after a serendipitous meeting in Diagon Alley. Drawn into their world, she finds herself at the Burrow more often than not. Meanwhile, Bill Weasley is learning to navigate life as a single father, relying on his mother’s help to care for Victoire. Though their worlds orbit each other, Y/N and Bill’s paths never seem to align—until one evening when fate finally draws them together. Will it be the start of a love story, or will they be left with nothing but heartache?

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word count: 3.7k

The late afternoon sun dipped low in the sky, casting golden light over the quiet street as Bill stood outside Y/N’s apartment building. The crumpled piece of parchment in his hand bore the weight of days of self-reflection, endless second-guessing, and more rewrites than he cared to count.

He glanced at the note, his eyes scanning the familiar words for what felt like the hundredth time:

Y/N, I owe you an apology. I’ve been a fool, and I made you feel like you did something wrong when the truth is, I’m the one who—

Bill groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “What is this, a confession or a bloody essay?” he muttered, folding the parchment and stuffing it into his pocket. He adjusted his coat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his nerves churned in his stomach.

He couldn’t stop replaying Fred and George’s words in his mind. Start with an apology... Tell her you’re an idiot... Don’t overthink it.

“Don’t overthink it,” he muttered bitterly to himself. “Easy for them to say.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, staring at the apartment’s front door. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn around and leave, but he knew he couldn’t keep running from this. He had to face her, to tell her the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.

What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if she’s still upset?

The thoughts clawed at him, but he forced himself to take a step forward. His boots scuffed the pavement, and the sound seemed deafening in the otherwise quiet street. He reached the door, lifting his hand to knock before hesitating, his knuckles hovering inches from the wood.

He pulled the parchment back out of his pocket, unfolding it with shaky fingers.

Y/N, I owe you an apology. I’ve been a fool, and I made you feel like you did something wrong when the truth is, I’m the one who panicked. I like you—more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time—and that scares me, because I don’t want to mess this up. You mean so much to me, to Victoire...

Bill frowned, crumpling the note again. “Too much,” he muttered. “It’s too much.”

He leaned back against the wall beside the door, raking his hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, his pulse hammering in his ears. How could a man who had faced curses and traps, who had braved ancient tombs, be so utterly undone by the thought of admitting his feelings to a woman?

“Just knock,” he whispered to himself, glaring at the door like it had personally wronged him. “Three little knocks. That’s all it takes.”

But his feet felt rooted to the ground, his hand refusing to move. Every possible outcome flashed through his mind, from the worst-case scenario of her slamming the door in his face to the equally terrifying possibility that she might actually forgive him.

The door suddenly opened, and Bill startled, nearly stumbling backward.

Y/N stood there, her expression shifting from surprise to cautious curiosity as she took him in. She was dressed casually, a book in one hand, her hair pulled back. Her gaze flicked to the crumpled parchment in his hand before returning to his face.

“Bill?” she said, her tone somewhere between confusion and concern. “What are you doing here?”

Caught off guard, Bill’s carefully rehearsed speech flew out of his head. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his mind scrambling for words.

“I... uh...” He cleared his throat, feeling utterly ridiculous. “I needed to talk to you.”

Y/N blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. “About what?”

Bill exhaled slowly, straightening his posture and meeting her eyes. “About how I messed up,” he said, his voice steadier now. “And how sorry I am.”

Her expression softened, but she didn’t speak, waiting for him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have left like I did,” he admitted, his hand tightening around the parchment. “I was scared, and I handled it poorly. You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N. If anything, you were... perfect.”

Her lips parted slightly, her surprise evident, but she still didn’t interrupt.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself feel this way about someone,” Bill went on, his voice quieter now. “And it caught me off guard. I panicked because I didn’t want to ruin things between us, but in trying to avoid that, I ended up doing exactly what I didn’t want to do.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Bill braced himself for her response, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N looked at him for a long moment before stepping aside and opening the door wider. “You’d better come in,” she said softly.

The silence was thick as Y/N led Bill into her small but cozy living room. She gestured toward the couch, but he remained standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The tension between them was almost palpable, each of them hyper-aware of the other’s presence in the confined space.

“Do you... want tea?” Y/N asked, her voice hesitant as she crossed to the kitchenette.

“Uh, sure,” Bill replied quickly, his hands sliding into his coat pockets. “Tea would be great.”

Y/N nodded and busied herself with the kettle, her movements quick but fidgety. She pulled down two mismatched mugs and spooned tea leaves into them, trying to focus on the simple task instead of the man standing stiffly behind her.

Bill’s eyes roamed the room, taking in the eclectic mix of books, plants, and trinkets that seemed so perfectly her. The space felt lived-in, warm in a way that reminded him of the Burrow, but smaller, more personal. He swallowed hard, his nerves coiling tighter with every passing second.

When the kettle whistled, Y/N poured the tea and carried the mugs to the small coffee table, setting them down before finally sitting on the edge of the couch. She looked up at Bill expectantly, but he hesitated, hovering for a moment before sitting down at the far end of the couch. The space between them felt vast, an invisible chasm filled with everything left unsaid.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her mug, the warmth grounding her as she cleared her throat. “So,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the knot in her chest. “You wanted to talk?”

Bill nodded, his hands clasped tightly between his knees as he leaned forward. He stared down at the floor, gathering his thoughts, before finally looking up to meet her eyes.

“I owe you an explanation,” he began, his voice low but firm. “About why I left the way I did... and why it took me so long to come back.”

Y/N didn’t respond, but her gaze didn’t waver, urging him to continue.

Bill exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his guilt was pressing down on him. “That night... it wasn’t you, Y/N. It was me. I was scared, and I let that fear get the better of me.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Scared of what?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around each other. “Scared of how much I like you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of ruining something good before it even had a chance to start.”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly, but she said nothing, letting him keep going.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself feel this way about someone,” Bill continued, his words coming quicker now as if he was afraid of losing his nerve. “After everything with Fleur, I told myself I didn’t need anyone else. That it was just me and Victoire, and that was enough. But then you came along...”

He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor again. “You’re kind, and warm, and you’ve been amazing with Victoire. She adores you. And somewhere along the way, I... I started to adore you too.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her grip on the mug tightening as his words sank in.

“But that night,” Bill went on, his voice thick with regret, “I panicked. I thought I was coming on too strong, or that you didn’t feel the same way, or that I was dragging you into something you didn’t sign up for. And instead of talking to you about it, I ran.” He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “It was cowardly, and I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserved better than that.”

The room was silent except for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. Y/N stared down at her tea, her mind racing as she processed everything he had said.

“Bill,” she said quietly, finally breaking the silence. “I thought I did something wrong. I’ve spent the last week overanalyzing everything, wondering if I said or did something to push you away.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with alarm. “No,” he said quickly, his voice urgent. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, but her expression remained guarded. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you were feeling? I would’ve listened.”

“I know,” Bill said, his tone laced with self-reproach. “I know you would’ve. But I was so caught up in my own head, I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to risk losing what we had, and in doing so, I almost lost it anyway.”

She nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. “It hurt, Bill,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve never let myself get close to someone like this before, and when you left, I felt... I don’t know, stupid for letting my guard down.”

“You’re not stupid,” he said firmly, leaning toward her. “If anything, I’m the idiot for not seeing what I had right in front of me.”

Their eyes met, and for the first time that evening, the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by something softer, more tentative.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” Bill said, his voice gentle. “But I wanted you to know how sorry I am, and how much I care about you.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she set her mug down and leaned back against the couch, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Thank you for saying that,” she said softly. “It means a lot.”

Bill nodded, his chest loosening as relief began to seep in. “So... where does that leave us?”

Y/N smiled faintly, her eyes meeting his. “I guess that depends on whether you’re willing to stop running and start talking.”

A small, hopeful smile curved his lips. “I think I can manage that.”

Bill cleared his throat, setting his empty mug on the coffee table. He turned toward her, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied, tilting her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “Would you come with me to the Burrow for dinner? With the family?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. She hadn’t been back to the Burrow since the date, and the idea of facing everyone after the awkwardness of the past week made her stomach twist.

“I don’t know, Bill,” she said cautiously. “Things have been a little... complicated lately.”

He smiled wryly, nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, they’ve noticed.” His tone was light, but there was a flicker of embarrassment in his expression. “Actually, Mum made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome until I sorted things out with you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she laughed softly. “Molly disinvited you from family dinner?”

“Not just Mum,” Bill admitted, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. “Fred and George have been giving me hell about it, Charlie hasn’t stopped with the pointed looks, and even Ginny told me I deserved a good hex. Honestly, I think Percy was the only one who didn’t weigh in, and that’s probably because he was too busy at work.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of the formidable Weasley clan uniting to pressure Bill both amusing and oddly heartwarming. “Sounds like they’ve all been keeping you in line.”

“They’ve definitely made their opinions known,” Bill said with a grin. “But they’ve also made it clear that they miss you, Y/N. And so do I.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a softer expression as she looked at him. “You miss me?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “The Burrow hasn’t felt the same without you. Victoire keeps asking when you’re coming back, Mum’s been baking enough to feed an army in case you drop by, and, well... I’ve missed you too. More than I realised.”

The sincerity in his voice made Y/N’s chest tighten, but in a good way. The walls she’d built around herself since that night began to crack, the warmth of his words seeping through.

“Alright,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll come. But only if you promise to run interference if Fred and George start asking too many questions.”

Bill laughed, relief washing over his features. “Deal. I’ll keep them in line. Well, as much as anyone can.” He extended a hand toward her, his smile soft but genuine. “Shall we?”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his. His grip was warm and steady, grounding her as the familiar pull of Apparition wrapped around them.

The familiar, slightly lopsided silhouette of the Burrow came into view as Y/N and Bill Apparated onto the garden path. The house looked as lively as ever, with warm light spilling from the windows and the distant sound of voices carrying on the cool evening breeze. Y/N’s stomach twisted with nerves, though she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the place she had grown to love so much.

“Ready?” Bill asked, his voice low as he turned to her. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes, as if he could sense her hesitation.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied with a small smile, smoothing the front of her jumper.

He nodded and placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. Before they even reached the threshold, it swung open to reveal Molly, her expression lighting up the moment she saw Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N, dear!” Molly exclaimed, pulling her into a warm hug before she could say a word. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us!”

Y/N laughed softly, hugging her back. “Never, Molly. I’ve just been... busy.”

Molly pulled back, her hands resting on Y/N’s shoulders as she looked her over. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Come in, come in, dinner’s almost ready!”

Before Y/N could respond, she was ushered inside, where the usual chaos of a Weasley family dinner awaited her. The air was filled with the rich aroma of roasted meats and freshly baked bread, and the sound of laughter and conversation came from every direction.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Fred’s voice rang out from the kitchen, followed quickly by George’s. “And here we thought Bill had scared you off for good!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a laugh escaped her lips as Fred and George approached, identical grins plastered on their faces.

“Missed you, Y/N,” George said, pulling her into a quick, playful hug. “The Burrow’s been downright boring without you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Fred added, giving her a mock serious look. “I’ve been thriving in the peace and quiet.”

“Sure you have,” Y/N quipped, her nerves easing slightly under their teasing. “Let me guess, you’ve been thriving by pulling twice as many pranks on everyone now that I’m not here to stop you?”

“Caught us,” Fred admitted with a wink.

As the twins retreated to the dining table, Y/N turned to find Ginny approaching, her arms crossed but a warm smile on her face.

“About time you showed up,” Ginny said, giving her a quick hug. “I was starting to think we’d have to come drag you here ourselves.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Y/N replied with a sheepish smile.

“Good,” Ginny said with a nod, her gaze flicking toward Bill, who was lingering nearby. “And don’t worry, we’ll behave. Mostly.”

Before Y/N could respond, a small whirlwind of curls barreled into her legs. “Y/N!” Victoire squealed, clutching her tightly. “You came!”

“Of course I did, sweetheart,” Y/N said, crouching down to hug her properly. “I couldn’t stay away forever, could I?”

Victoire pulled back, beaming. “I have so much to tell you! Uncle Charlie showed me a picture of a real dragon, and Aunt Ginny taught me a new spell, and—”

“Let’s save some stories for dinner, princess,” Bill interjected gently, his voice warm as he ruffled Victoire’s curls.

Victoire nodded eagerly and grabbed Y/N’s hand, tugging her toward the table. “You have to sit next to me!”

As Y/N followed, she caught Molly’s eye and saw the older woman’s satisfied smile. It was clear that Y/N’s return had made more than just Victoire’s evening.

When everyone had finally settled at the table, Arthur raised his glass. “To family,” he said warmly, his gaze sweeping over the group before landing on Y/N. “And to having you back with us, Y/N. You’ve been missed.”

The table erupted in a chorus of agreement, and Y/N felt her cheeks flush as she murmured her thanks. She glanced at Bill, who was seated across from her, and found him watching her with a soft, almost shy smile.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and Molly’s incomparable cooking. Y/N felt the tension that had gripped her for the past week slowly unraveling, replaced by the warmth and chaos of the Weasley family. By the time dessert was served, she realized just how much she had missed this, and how grateful she was to be back.

As the night wound down and Victoire began to doze off in her chair, Y/N glanced at Bill, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. For the first time in what felt like forever, things seemed to be falling into place.

The dinner plates were cleared, and the Burrow was beginning to quiet as the Weasleys filtered out or settled into their usual evening routines. The glow of a perfect evening lingered in the warm smiles and soft hum of conversation that still filled the house. Y/N leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching Bill scoop a sleepy Victoire into his arms.

“Come on, princess,” he said softly, adjusting her so she rested comfortably against his chest. Her curls spilled over his shoulder, and her tiny hand clutched at his shirt. “Time to head home.”

Victoire mumbled something incoherent, too far gone into the world of dreams to protest. Bill smiled down at her, brushing a stray curl from her face before turning to Y/N.

“You heading out too?” he asked, his voice casual, though his gaze lingered on her just a moment too long.

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to answer. Part of her wanted to stay longer, soak in the warmth of the Burrow and its inhabitants, but she didn’t want to overstep. “I probably should,” she said lightly, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her uncertainty.

Bill nodded, glancing down at Victoire as if weighing something in his mind. He adjusted her slightly, his free hand tucking into his pocket. Then he looked back at Y/N, his expression unreadable but filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

“Actually…” He paused, taking a breath as though steeling himself. “Would you—” He faltered, his ears tinging pink as he glanced away for a moment. “Would you want to stay the night? At Shell Cottage, I mean.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Stay the night?” she repeated, her voice softer now.

Bill nodded, his eyes meeting hers again, this time with more confidence. “Yeah. It’s late, and Victoire would love it if you were there when she woke up. And… so would I.”

Her heart skipped at the honesty in his tone, the subtle vulnerability in the way he held her gaze. For a moment, the world seemed to slow, the quiet hum of the Burrow fading into the background.

“I…” She hesitated, a small smile tugging at her lips as she tried to suppress the sudden rush of warmth in her chest. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, his voice firm but gentle. “You never are.”

The sincerity in his words melted away her remaining doubts. She nodded, her smile widening. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Bill’s shoulders seemed to relax, the corners of his mouth lifting in a soft smile that reached his eyes. “Great,” he said, his tone laced with quiet relief. “Let’s get this little one home, then.”

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Y/N felt the tension of the past week dissolve completely. The stars glittered above them, and the soft sound of the wind rustling through the trees made the world feel impossibly peaceful.

With Victoire nestled in Bill’s arms, they Apparated to Shell Cottage, where the waves crashed gently against the shore, and the cozy glow of the house welcomed them home.

As Bill carried Victoire to her room, Y/N stood in the living room, taking in the space that already felt so familiar. When he returned, he found her gazing out the window, the moonlight casting a soft glow across her face.

“Tea?” he offered, his voice quiet as he stepped closer.

She turned to him, her smile soft but radiant. “Sure.”

As they settled into the quiet rhythm of the evening, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this—this ease, this connection—was the start of something she hadn’t even dared to hope for. And for the first time in a long time, the future felt full of possibility.

tagged: @navs-bhat @neenieweenie @buendiabebeta

a/n: GUYS OH MY GOD HERE IT IS MY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!! the total word count is over 42k which is the most ive ever written!!!!!!! my blood sweat and tears has gone into this im not lying when i say i've stayed up multiple nights until 1/2/3 am (While working full time which is crazy business) to get this done. I'll have more to say at the end of the epilogue.

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley angst #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #american reader #fanfic community #hogwarts fanfiction #reader insert

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xximenasblog · 1 year ago

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~Forgive me?~

Ellie Williams x Fem Reader

Summary: Ellie apologizes to you using her favorite method.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first time posting. I appreciate any suggestions and/or requests. Let see how this goes :) Hope you enjoy!

“Baby, stop acting like this, please” Ellie begs you. You are lay on your side of the shared bed, reading your book. Your girlfriend has been begging for your attention for the past 5 minutes.

"Look at me. For fuck's sake, yell at me if you want!" she whines in frustration. The two of you had gotten into a stupid argument, before this, and you have been giving her the silent treatment. Despite the silliness of the fight, you were feeling annoyed with your adorable, but whiny girlfriend.

You continue reading your book, paying no attention to Ellie. Ellie sighs loudly before she settles in between your legs. She lays on her stomach, looking up at you with a seductive smirk on her face.

"Let me show you how sorry I am for being an idiot, baby" she grins. That statement takes your attention away from the book. You look down at her in between your legs. "How so?" you ask with a frown.

Instead of answering, Ellie presses soft kisses to your bare thighs. “Please let me taste your pussy” your girlfriend begs. Oh god...Only she can turn you on this quickly.

In less than a second, Ellie removes you pajama shorts and takes the book out of your hands. She grins “look at her, always ready for me huh?" Your breathing picks up as she presses her tongue against your clothed clit, leaving a wet spot on your panties.

"Ellie..." you whimper, frustrated with her teasing. You run your fingers through her short, auburn hair and push your pussy up against her face. Ellie chuckles at your desperate attempt to find any kind of friction against your puffy clit.

Ellie pulls your panties off to the side and mumbles "fuck, baby" when she sees how wet you are. Her teasing manner disappears in an instant and is replaced with desperation. She attaches her mouth to your clit and sucks, moaning at your addictive taste.

"Oh god....yes baby" you moan as you grind your pussy against her mouth desperately. The room is filled with wet sounds as Ellie makes out with your wet pussy.

Ellie looks up at your flushed cheeks and smirks as she continues eating you out. Without warning, Ellie inserts two of her fingers inside of you. "I'm sorry about our argument earlier" Ellie says as she curls her fingers inside of you, hitting your sensitive spot.

All you can do is moan out in pleasure. The argument was the last thing on your mind right now. "Ellie, I'm about to cum" you gasp as you feel the familiar tightness on your lower abdomen.

"That's it baby, cum on my fingers. God, you're so fucking tight" Ellie moans as her pace increases. "Be my good girl. You look so sexy like this. Spread out like my pretty little whore" she grins.

The dirty talk is enough to push you over the edge. You dig your nails into her arm as your orgasm hits you like a train. "Oh yes, yes!" you moan loud and squeeze your legs together, preventing Ellie from fingering and overstimulating you.

You lay there panting as the waves of pleasure pass through your body. You watch as Ellie wraps her lips around her fingers, which are drenched in your juices. "Mmmm" she moans as she licks them clean while staring deep into your eyes.

"Forgive me, my love?" she pouts, almost like a child begging their mother for candy. "What were we arguing about again?" you reply with a giggle. Ellie laughs as well and leans down to kiss your lips.

"Oh, you're not forgiven yet. You gotta fuck me before I completely forgive you" you smirk. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but happily reaches for her strap inside the nightstand. She's more than ready to spend all night begging her pretty girl for forgiveness.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x y/n #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams smut #wlw

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xoxochb · 8 months ago

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— love letters and such

warnings: none pairing: apollo x goddess! daughter of aphrodite and ares a/n: a little blurb for now bc I’m planning to write a longer fic for them

you were not going to read this one. the last was the last. you were beginning to understand why zeus had restricted you from sitting beside your husband at his silly brunches. as he talks on and on about the gods know what (and surely they don’t either with the confused looks they’re giving each other) you’ve received a collection of napkin letters from apollo, from the other end of the table, passed on from god to goddess until it reaches your hands, you read it before glancing up at him with a look of disapproval but all you get in return is a playful smile. this time you would not be opening up the napkin letter, leaving it to lay atop your lap as you try your best to listen to the lighting god’s stories

your mother from beside you whispers into your ear. “It’s been requested you open the napkin”

you roll your eyes. “by whom?”

“I think you know”

“so know we’re playing telephone?”

aphrodite shrugs and rips a piece of her own napkin, handing it to you along with a pink pen. you sigh and take both of them, writing a response:

“I am not opening your silly note”

— with much love, your tortured wife

you grin as you hand it to your mother who passes it to ares beside her, then to hermes and so on until it reaches your husband you frowns when he opens it. though, you are curious to see what he has written, you open it indiscreetly as he is distracted, your cheeks flushing bright red at the contents of the note. zeus notices and stops his story telling

“(name), is there something you’d like to share with the group?”

“no!” you practically yell “uhm— sorry, I mean no. please continue”

“what is that in your hands?”

so much for indiscreet

“my napkin” you hold up the opposite side of the napkin to his view, though your mother catches sight of the opposite side and gasps

“aphrodite, care to share?”

she slaps ares’ hand in his lap. “he’s trying out exhibitionism. ares, not around family!”

the war god furrows his brows, yet plays along. “of course, my apologies, father. continue”

zeus sighs and continues speaking, ultimately bored with the situation. you excuse yourself from the table and walk outside to find a seat on the palace stairs. soon after your husband finds himself beside you at last

“you seem to always get your way”

“did you think I would let my father keep you from me for the gods know how long?”

“idiot. you’re acting like I’ve died”

“darling, every moment I’m not touching you is like death”

you sigh, but in all give in and rest your head on his shoulder. In response, you earn a kiss to the top of your head and an arm wrapped around your waist. there’s a moment of silence before your mother’s loving nature was replaced with your father’s anger

“what the hell were you thinking writing that?!”

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #trials of apollo #apollo x y/n #apollo pjo x reader #apollo x you #apollo x reader #apollo pjo #apollo

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averillaratargaryen · 3 months ago

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‘The Bitter Bond.’

Chapter XXX

“Aemond-! What are you doing? Let go of me!” Daerlyssa cried out as he held her wrist tightly, pulling her to one side.

“We are leaving” he responded, his free hand bringing his belongings together.

“Aemond, we can not just leave. After everything that has happened-!”

“That is exactly why we have to leave!” Aemond shouts back, turning to face her as grip tightened, “they are coming for you.”

“What?” Daerlyssa whispered.

“I do not have time to answer your questions, Daerlyssa!” Aegon shouted back.

“Aemond, you are hurting me” she whispered.

Looking towards his hand, Aemond noticed his tightened grip, and immediately had let go, realising he was doing something he should not have been.

“This is all happening because of what your father did to my grandfather” Aemond responded, “perhaps my mother was right.”

Aemond did not think of his words, as he continued to put together his belongings, having Daerlyssa stood silently, watching him.

It took Aemond a while before he realised her shock, having looked up at her in question.

“Your mother was right?” Daerlyssa asks.

With a sigh, he stood up straight, looking back at her, “I did not mean it like that Daerlyssa.”

“I know that Aegon was your brother. He was just as important to me Aemond” Daerlyssa responded, “but you can not truly believe that this is the gods punishing us.”

“It is not what I meant” Aemond responded.

“Then what did you mean Aemond?” She asks, “did you believe that I wished for this? My father did what he had to do because your grandfather committed a grave sin!”

“Why else do you believe they are here, Daerlyssa?” Aemond asks, “they had come to take revenge, that is why they had called us traitors.”

She stared at him blankly, with no clue to what he had meant.

“They want to hurt your entire family, and after what had happened to you, we are leaving” Aemond rushed to pack away things.

“If it is my family they are after we can not leave. I can not leave my family behind-!” Daerlyssa tried her best in arguing back.

“Daerlyssa we are leaving, and that is final!” Aemond had raised his voice yet again, but immediately regretted it when he had noticed the shudder in her shoulders.

With a sight, he had spoken in a much calmer voice, “we have just lost Aegon. I can not lose you too.”

…

“I am such an idiot” Alicent let out a hysteric laugh, “my father had warned me. I should have known it would come to this.”

“Alicent-?”

“No!” She shouted back to Rhaenyra, who stepped back, from trying to comfort her, “you do not get to Alicent me. I have lost my son. Both my sons.”

“I am sorry, but I do not have any part of this!” Rhaenyra responded.

“My father warned me that war would follow once you sat the throne. You are a woman, of course” Alicent nodded, “this is exactly what he had meant. I was stupid enough to believe I was doing right by my kids, and in the end my son has lost his life!”

“It was your House, that attacked” Daemon spoke calmly, knowing Alicent was speaking out of grief.

“Because of what you did to my father-!”

“Your father deserved what came to him” Daemon responded.

“Daemon” Rhaenyra shook her head at him, asking that he keep his cool.

She turned back to Alicent, who stood silently, dazed out in tired, teared eyes, “I am sorry, about Aegon.”

“Oh you are sorry” Alicent let out a low chuckle, “I suppose an apology will make it whole, will it?”

“I did not ask for this. I did not wish for Aegon to be murdered” Rhaenyra responded.

“No of course not” Alicent responded, “you never intend anything and yet it is I, who had to make sacrifices and do what was asked of me, whilst you sit with privilege.”

“With privilege?” Rhaenyra scoffed.

“It was you that they were after and yet, it is me, who has lost my son. And Aemond, who has followed after your daughter” Alicent responded.

“Aemond made his choice” Daemon responded, not wishing to hear any insult towards his daughter.

“The only way we can sort this is if we come together and fight for what is right” Rhaenyra responds, “if you do not wish to fight for my claim then do not. But fight for Aegon’s justice.”

“You wish for me to side with you, against my own people?” Alicent asks.

“It is your people that murdered your son, what more does one need to turn against them?” Daemon asks.

“It is a bitter bond, yes, but it is the only way to bring justice to ourselves before we lose more of our children” Rhaenyra responds.

Within Dragonstone, Daerlyssa and Aemond spent their days quietly, in mourning for Aegon, whilst awaiting a response from the Red Keep to any insight.

“Will the Prince not be coming for breakfast this morning?” Daerlyssa’s maid had asked, after the Princess had made her way down.

“I do not think so” Daerlyssa sighed as she responded, sitting at the table, once again, by herself.

“The Prince Jacerys had sent news from Kingslanding” Ser Simon spoke, as he stood beside her.

“Good news, I hope?” Daerlyssa asks.

“I am not sure” Ser Simon responds, “if travelling to the North is good news, then I should hope so.”

“The North?” Daerlyssa asks.

“Princess” her maester had rushed in, having Daerlyssa distracted from Ser Simon, “we have received a raven from Kings Landing from your father.”

Daerlyssa had stood up immediately, rushing past as she took the raven from his hand.

Scanning through, everyone stood silently watching her facial reaction, as her eyes widened.

“Is everything alright, Princess?” Ser Simon asks.

“I-?” She stuttered, “I have to speak to Aemond.”

“About what?” Aemond responded.

Daerlyssa had looked up to find Aemond stood, with a soft smile.

…

“So he wants you to gather men for a war?” Aemond asks, to which Daerlyssa nodded in response.

Aemond looked towards her, slightly baffled, “and why is he not doing this?”

“He is. He has gotten Jace to visit the North, and he himself has gone to Harrenhall” Daerlyssa responds.

“Harrenhall? What is he going to gather there?” Aemond asked, “apart from Ser Simon Strong and his bastard.”

“Aemond-!” Daerlyssa looked at him in shock.

“I’m sorry, I just-!” Aemond sighed, “I don’t understand why he wants you to go.”

“Do you think I am not capable?” Daerlyssa asks.

“No. That is not it” Aemond responds.

“Then what is it?” Daerlyssa scoffed, “after all, it is my mother, for whom I am fighting for. And that is something I am willing to do. I have a dragon, and I am perfectly trained.”

“Except those against you will have your head on a spike out of petty to your father” Aemond responds.

Realising his worry, Daerlyssa had come to him with a calmer expression, sitting down beside him.

“I know that you are worried, Aemond” Daerlyssa acknowledged.

“It is more than that” Aemond whispered, looking down at himself with a sulk.

“I know. After Aegon-?” She gulped, after whispering his name, “but he would not want this. He would not wish his brother to sit away in hiding. He was proud, of your accomplishments, and he had always told me how he felt you were much of a fighter than he is.”

Aemond nodded silently, with a smile.

“And I know factually, that he would rather I fight for what is right, than to sit back and fear that I might die because someone is after me” Daerlyssa responded, “it is one of the reasons I could forgive him. Aegon was a believer. And just like he believed in you, he believed in me. He would not want you sat here, in a castle. Not without a fight.”

“Who will you bring back to fight for your mother?” Aemond asks.

“With Jace gathering men in the North, and my father’s idea to gather the Riverlands, my best shot is to gather the Westerlands and Stormlands together” Daerlyssa responds.

“And will you go alone?” Aemond asks.

“It is my mother, whom they are coming for. So I am willing to go alone” Daerlyssa stood up, walking ahead as she spoke.

With her back faced towards him, she turns her head back, “unless you wish to fight for your sister and house?”

“I may have some insight on the Stormlands, with Lord Borros Baratheon” Aemond stood up with a smirk, “and I wouldn’t wish to have you go alone.”

“Then come with me” Daerlyssa smiled, “let us fight, together, and we will get justice for Aegon, just as much as this.”

Aemond nods in response, taking Daerlyssa’s hand as the two smile at one another.

It had gotten to the same night, that Aemond and Daerlyssa had both decided to travel on Dragonback within the next early morning.

Helping herself up to bed, she had noticed Aemond stood by himself, staring out into the night sky as he stood at the balcony of the Castle.

“Leave us” Daerlyssa whispered to Ser Simon, who nodded in response before turning away and heading in the opposite direction.

Daerlyssa had approached Aemond in slow, silent steps, her ears perked as she heard his prayers to the gods.

‘May the gods let Aegon rest peacefully and soundfully. Let him be forgiven for all sins and let his righteousness be acknowledged by the gods.”

Daerlyssa stood silently as she awaited him to finish his prayer.

As he did, she had cleared her throat, making him aware of her presence.

“Oh, I did not know you were here” Aemond whispered.

“And I did not know you prayed” Daerlyssa responded.

“My mother prays to the Gods, as does my sister. Aegon would pray, not because he believed it, but he believed in my mother” Aemond responded.

“Do you not believe?” Daerlyssa asks.

“It is hard to say” Aemond shrugged, “do you?”

“I believe that good comes to this who wait. That bad comes to those who are deserving of it. And some destinies are given a rough path to open doors for others” Daerlyssa responds.

Aemond nods, turning away as he looks back into the night sky.

“It is beautiful” Daerlyssa turns her head in the same direction, the two now admiring the beauty of it.

“It is strange. Despite how empty it all is, the night sky is always so beautiful” Aemond whispered.

“Sometimes it is the lonely part that becomes the beauty of things” Daerlyssa responded before pointing out to the one singular star, “except we have company.”

“A star” Aemond chuckled.

“We should give it a name” Daerlyssa turns her head behind to get a response.

“I am lost of thought” Aemond shrugged.

With a smile, Daerlyssa turns her head back to the star, and responded, “Aegon sounds like the perfect name for a star.”

“A star lonely, yet watched over by two others” Aemond responded.

“Exactly” Daerlyssa turns to face him, “it seems the gods have accepted your prayers.”

Aemond nods, as he hid away his tears.

“I shall leave you to be” Daerlyssa had tiptoed to kiss him against his cheek, before turning away to walk off.

“Daerlyssa, wait” Aemond called out, holding her gently from her wrist.

She turned to face him, the two acknowledging each other’s pain.

“I am willing to wait, until you are comfortable to be beside me again” Daerlyssa whispered.

“Im sorry” Aemond apologised.

“Do not be” Daerlyssa shook her head.

“I just- I feel that the world had ended when it happened” Aemond whispered, “and I could not do anything about it.”

“There was nothing you could have done” Daerlyssa assured him, “it is not your fault.”

“And yet, I could not-!” Aemond’s lip quivered, “I could not see him go.”

“I know” Daerlyssa whispered, as she had pulled him in for a hug.

Tightly embracing her, Aemond rested his head above her shoulder, his sobs muffled as she had rested her hand behind his head.

Believing that the best thing of mourning, was to simply let it all out.

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chapter 31

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