#Is that what this is? Or are you simply throwing clothing items at me as if Im a chair?

[macksho]

*preemptively slaps you with comically long glove*

You like soda now. It is Official. The Poll does not lie.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooòoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

[manicmanuscription]

By The Candlelight

Azriel x Reader

Summary: When you and Azriel finally get a chance to sleep after traveling for so long he gets a glimpse of you through your shadow being reflected.

Word Count: 1041

Warnings: Mutual Pining, slight seduction, Azriel being a mess over reader. Forced proximity. Mostly written in Azriel's perspective.

Based on the request here. Thank you so much for your request enjoy!

“Sorry.” Azriel had murmured as you finally, finally, reached the safe house. Although ‘house’ probably wasn’t the best term. It was more of a single room with walls. It could barely fit Azriel and his large frame but at least there was a small mattress and a sink so you weren’t complaining, happy to just finally be out of the cold and have the chance to rid your rain soaked leathers. “It’s usually just me staying here.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve stayed in worse.” You chirped, throwing your go-back on the mattress rifling through it as you looked for a change of clothes pulling out various daggers, healing potions and salves, and of course a few necessities for your hair.

“Sorry I was added to the mission so late. I don't mean to overstep or be a burden.” You mentioned a pang of guilt pulling on your heart. 

“You are not a burden.” Azriel said quickly from behind you. You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the determination in his words. 

A few moments of silence passed, the rain beating against the wooden walls, the very faint hum of magic as the few wards strained to keep this place concealed and warm.

Azriel shuffled closer so you were now standing shoulder to shoulder, his hand slightly brushing against yours and his breath hitched at the contact. He picked up your hairbrush and what looked like to be a bottle of face wash. “Really?” The Shadowsinger teased. “Rhys told us to pack light.” 

You flashed him a smile, snatching the items from his hands. “I may be a Spy, Azriel but I am still a female.” You said with a playful smile, simply brushing your wet hair over your shoulder. Your smile, the way you said his names- gods- it had his knees buckling slightly. 

You picked up your bundle of fresh clothes after stuffing everything else that wasn’t needed back in your bag and faced Azriel a few beats of silence passing, your face inches apart.  He was too focused by the faint blush on your cheeks to notice your timidness as you spoke shyly.

“I..need to change.” Your voice broke the moment of staring and Azriel cleared his throat. “Of course, my apologies.” He moved towards the door, a miracle it was still on its hinges, his hands brushing against the wooden knob when you spoke again. “You…don’t have to go outside, it's raining pretty bad.” 

Azriel froze momentarily. His heart was pounding in his ears, he was sure it roared louder than the clap of thunder that rolled across the mountain. Lightning was next, flashes of it echoing through small cracks in the walls.

“Alright.” Azriel finally spoke, his voice hoarse and he slid his hands in his pockets trying to hide the slight tremor that ran through them. He still faced the door but took a step back inside if only to appease you. 

He could hear your clothing being removed from behind him and a lump formed in his throat as lust and imagination clashed in his mind.

A few candles had automatically lit as the door opened when you two arrived and their light stayed a strong steady presence. He did his best to ignore your shadow perfectly casted on the wall, yet each movement you made had his eyes straying to the illusion there. The tiny space made your silhouette as accurate as possible and he did his best to breath through the desire that hit him like a brick. 

He needed you more than he needed anything or anyone in his life and right now you were playing a dangerous game, albeit unknowingly.

He couldn’t even feel the wetness that seeped into his leathers, no longer feeling the cold that had settled so firmly. His shadows dispersed even further away from him, settling underneath floorboards and cracks in the walls, their absence somehow making the candles brighter and his breath hitched as your shadow enhanced at the new light. He hissed under his breath and his shadows laughed at his dilemma.

A few more minutes of intense silence passed and he tried to focus on the rain, on the cracks in the floorboard, yet his eyes could not stop straying to your shadow, to your curves and elegant movement.

Azriel was sure his breathing had stopped and his mind had emptied of all other thought’s that weren’t about you. He was clenching his teeth so hard they might break. Shame and guilt tingled in his gut yet he could not look away.

Everything about you enchanted him and knowing that you were changing just a few paces behind him, knowing that you trusted him enough to do that? His cock struggled in the confine of his pants and his mind whirred at the possibilities. 

“Alright.” You spoke gently and he turned around slowly, drinking you in. You were wearing an old t-shirt that seemed just a little bit too big for you and some long sweatpants that hugged your thighs perfectly. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, staring at you with that intensity he always seemed to possess.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.” You whispered and he shook his head no, not trusting his voice. 

He was entranced with your movements as you set your bag on the floor, sliding underneath the covers of the mattress and moved over, very deliberately leaving a space for him there and his heart was going a million miles a minute, his breathing stopped as you started talking once again, it took him a minute to process your words as the sound of your voice hummed in his chest pleasantly, drowning everything else out. 

There was only you.

“Make sure to dry off before coming to bed.” 

He nodded, turning around and running his hands through his hair, trying to calm his heart and steady his breathing. Did you not see how you were affecting him?

How having you so close yet so far was physically painful. He ached for you and silently cursed Rhys for this mission. Azriel rolled his shoulders and reached for his own bag. His hearing hyper focused on the sound of your breathing, on every shift you made in the bed. 

Gods you were going to be the death of him. 

[seungkw1]

pretty little present — smg

♡ pairing: bf!mingi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 2.5k ♡ warnings: dom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (obviously), reader wears lingerie, mingi picks up reader and carries them, masturbation (f. & m.), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), dacryphilia, possessiveness, creampie, reader gets one (1) hickey, pet names (princess, doll, babygirl), great aftercare, fluff ending ♡ a/n: i don’t normally write atz but bestie @myhimbomingi requested a mingi fic and i absolutely said yes!! i had such a fun time writing him hehe

The soft light of early dawn filters through your eyelids as you slowly drift into consciousness. You roll over, flopping your arm over your sleeping boyfriend to snuggle up next to him - but your hand hits nothing but the bedsheets. You sleepily pry your eyes open to see his side of the bed vacant. You grab your phone to check your texts - sure enough, you have a message from Mingi, sent at 6:14am:

good morning babe :) sorry to leave without saying goodbye but i didnt wanna wake u, u looked so cute!! i had to leave early for work today but i promise i’ll make it up to u! i left u a present on the counter, we’ll put it to good use tonight ;) love you ❤️

You were planning on going back to sleep, but now you're simply too curious. You hop out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. There, on the counter, you see a flat, gift-wrapped box - creamy white in color with baby pink ribbons tying it together. Whatever it is, it looks expensive. You untie the pastel bow and remove the lid. Underneath several layers of crisp white tissue paper, you find your present: a lingerie set. 

The set is jet black, made of silky mesh adorned with lace and satin ribbons. It’s light as a feather, buttery soft to the touch - clearly a luxury item. You've never worn anything like it in your life, but it's beautiful. 

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend. 

got your gift, hurry home to me ;) 

The typing bubble immediately pops up. Within seconds he responds. 

i will baby 😘

The day passes at an annoyingly slow pace. You didn't have much to do today anyway, so you try to occupy yourself with chores, but you can't help daydreaming about what all Mingi will be doing to you later. 

Finally, evening rolls around - Mingi will be home soon. 

You take a quick shower to freshen up, afterwards donning your new lingerie set. With all its various straps it takes you a few minutes to even figure out how to get it on, but once you do you step in front of your full length mirror to check it out. You knew it was gonna be really pretty on, but you look fucking hot. You start thinking about how feral it's going to make Mingi - quickly ruining the delicate panties at the mere thought of him. 

You grab some leggings and a big tshirt and throw them on. Another peek in the mirror verifies that you can't tell what you're wearing underneath the comfy clothes - all the more perfect to surprise him with. 

A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. 

“Babe, I’m home!” Mingi calls out. 

You flutter on over to meet him, practically skipping as you jump into his arms. He pulls you in for a big kiss, placing his large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair softly as he holds you tight against him. As his lips depart from yours, he smiles, gazing at you with pure love. 

“I missed you,” you tell him as you place your hand on his chest. 

“I missed you too,” he replies as he kisses your forehead. 

“Soooo,” he starts as he tosses his bag down and kicks his shoes off. “What do you say we try out your new present?”

“Already?” you reply coyly. “Don’t you wanna eat dinner first?”

“It can wait,” he says as he lightly grabs onto your chin. His voice turns low and rumbly. 

“I’d rather eat you.”

You giggle. “Well somebody's horny.”

“I've been thinking about you all day - thinking about how good you're gonna look in your gift.” He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Gonna be my pretty little present.”

He grabs the hem of your tshirt, starting to pull it off of you. 

“Why don't we get you out of these clothes already and-”

He stops. He’s lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the black lacy lingerie underneath. 

“Oh.”

“One step ahead of you, baby,” you say sweetly. 

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans. He helps you lift your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it aside as he takes in the sight of you. The mesh lining of the bra is entirely sheer, putting your nipples on full display. The coolness of the room combined with how turned on you’re getting makes them perk up, poking through the delicate fabric. 

He brushes his fingers over the protruding buds, making them even harder. He licks his lips as he gazes at you, the love in his eyes quickly turning into lust. 

You reach for the waist of your leggings, sliding them off of you to reveal the rest of the set. You kick them aside, standing up before him to show yourself off.

“Turn around for me,” Mingi commands.

You give him a twirl, wiggling your butt as your back faces him. He grabs onto you with both hands, squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

You let him touch you for a few moments before you spin around, grabbing his hands as you pull him with you toward the bedroom.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” you tease.

Before you can take another step you feel your feet depart from the ground - Mingi grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the floor as he picks you up. He practically tosses you over his shoulder as he carries you down the hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around your torso as he holds you against him. 

“Hey!!” you shout, but a big grin spreads across your face. So he’s in this kind of mood. You know he’s about to throw you around, have his way with you - even more so than normal. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation. 

You arrive at the bedroom. Mingi tosses you onto the bed - you land on your back, resting upon the pile of pillows. You keep your legs open, showing off your pussy through the sheer fabric of your underwear. 

“So wet for me already,” he says as he runs two fingers lightly across your clothed slit. He gives your cunt a gentle smack. 

“Touch yourself for me, princess. Leave your panties on.”

You obediently slide your fingers to your core. Mingi quickly pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for his belt. You begin stroking your clit through the soft mesh as you watch him remove his clothes, freeing the large bulge that has formed in his pants. He pulls his boxers down, his length springing free. As many times as you’ve had sex with him, you’re still always taken aback by his size. His cock is thick, long, hard - precum already dribbling from his tip. He strokes himself a few times as he watches you. You slip your fingers underneath your panties, sliding them into your opening. You moan softly at the sensation - but you know this is absolutely nothing compared to how much his cock is going to fill you up. 

He watches you slowly fuck yourself for a minute, gripping his length in his fist. As you start to wriggle slightly to your own touch, he steps forward. You yelp as he grabs you by the ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, leaning against the bed, positioning his face in front of your cunt. His hands slide up the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up and into the bed, nearly folding you in half as he opens you up even further before him. He sticks his tongue out, dragging its tip ever so lightly over your clit through the panties - it’s enough to drive you insane.

“Mingi,” you whine, trying to push yourself into his mouth. He retracts his head, not letting you get what you want just yet.

“What’s that, baby?” he asks. The way he’s staring at you, you can tell he is dying to taste you - but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to taunt you a bit.

“Please,” you softly mumble under your breath.

“Use your words, doll. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Want your mouth on me,” you manage to utter, still trying to push your cunt against his mouth - but his grip on you is too strong. “Want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” he asks, teasing you once more as his tongue dances over your pussy.

“God, yes,” you cry. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if he delays any further. 

“Or,” he continues as he reaches beneath the hem of your panties, pulling them aside. The coolness of the air hits your soaked core, countered by the hot exhales of Mingi’s breath against you. “Like this…”

He dives into you, his warm mouth greeting your cunt as his tongue traces between your folds. He sticks the tip into your hole - you’re so wet right now that it slips in with ease. You groan as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit as he swirls his tongue around inside you. He pulls it out, flattening his tongue and licking a big stripe up your center before latching onto your clit. You cry out at the overpowering stimulation, writhing beneath Mingi’s strong arms as he sucks on the sensitive bud. A white-hot sensation swells in your gut, burning delightfully as you feel your orgasm approach. Your body tenses, your legs beginning to quiver as Mingi devours you. You reach for his head, grasping onto his hair as your climax takes over. You scream out Mingi’s name as you cum on his face, his tongue moving relentlessly against your clit as you ride out your high. He grips onto you until the very end, face buried in your pussy as you come down. Just when you think it’s over, he starts up again, sucking on your clit as he slips his fingers into you, curling them perfectly to reach your g-spot. Within moments, you’re cumming again, grinding against his tongue as overwhelming pleasure courses through your veins. He slows his motions, giving your clit a few last gentle licks as he slides his fingers out of you. They’re dripping wet, as is his entire chin - he places them in his mouth, licking them clean, making sure he doesn’t waste a single drop of you. 

You lay there, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths as you try to recover. Mingi crawls up to meet your face, kissing you slowly on the mouth as he lays his weight upon you - resting on his forearms so he doesn’t completely squish you. You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt as he makes out with you - you can just tell he is unbearably hard. 

Mingi’s lips part from yours - barely, just enough so he can gaze into your eyes as he strokes your hair.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nuzzles his head into your neck, sucking at your skin - lightly, but enough that you know it’ll leave a mark. 

“Anything for my princess,” he whispers into your ear. 

He stands up, pulling your hips toward him. He grabs onto the panties, ripping them off of you and throwing them aside. He lines his cock up with your entrance; he pushes just the head in, but he’s already stretching you out. Slowly he slides his full length into you - you cry out at the overwhelming fullness. He rests inside you for a few moments, letting you get used to his size. You begin shifting your hips, trying to ride his cock from beneath him. Mingi grins.

“So eager,” he coos, tracing his fingers over your stomach. “Are you ready babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, nodding your head swiftly.

He begins fucking you, steadily at first, but your cries quickly makes him increase his pace. Tears flow from your eyes as his thickness stretches you with each motion. He grasps tightly onto your hips, pulling you against him as he thrusts into you. He looks down at you, his pretty baby, losing all composure on his cock. He moans loudly, uninhibited - he doesn’t care if the whole world hears him. He wants everybody to know you’re his.

He reaches down, feeling your breasts through the lacy sheer bra.

“So pretty,” he groans. “So perfect, all mine.”

His hand slides down to your stomach, pushing down on your abdomen as he fucks you. The other reaches for your clit - you didn’t think you could possibly cum again, but the gentle pressure of his fingers combined with his cock nearly splitting you in half just feels too good. 

“Gonna cum,” you manage to get out, barely able to speak through your cries of pleasure. 

“Cum for me babygirl,” Mingi growls, very near his own release.

You cum on his cock, crying out his name as your walls squeeze around him - sending him over the edge. He releases, painting your insides with his hot white ropes. He grasps onto your hips, holding you down against him as his cock pulsates inside you. He breathes heavily, grunting as he gives you every last spurt of his cum. As he finishes, he holds still, his cock resting inside you. He leans over, careful not to pull out just yet - gently he grabs your jaw as he kisses you, his lips hungrily interlocked with yours. 

“Wait right here baby,” he says softly as your mouths finally part. You groan as he carefully pulls his cock out of you, immediately missing the sensation. Mingi quickly makes his way to the bathroom; he returns with a small towel, doused in warm water. Gently he cleans you up, cautious as not to overstimulate you. As he finishes he tosses the towel back into the bathroom, scooping you up and pulling you into the bed with him. He tucks the both of you underneath the blankets, taking you in his arms as he nuzzles up against you. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, kissing you on the forehead.

“Not with you here.”

“Good.”

You lay there in silence, deep breaths filling the air as you relax into each other's arms.

“Thanks for the present, baby,” you finally say, your voice soft and sleepy.

“You’re welcome, love.”

“You did completely rip it to shreds, though,” you remind him.

Mingi smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You just looked too good.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm. “I’ll just have to get you another one,” he tells you with a kiss.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you say as you snuggle up into him. “Just give me a few business weeks to recover from this please.”

He laughs, drawing you even closer into him. You begin to drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm in his embrace.

“Mingi?” you say softly.

“Yes, babe?”

“I love you.”

You feel his cheeks turn into a smile.

“I love you too, baby.”

[elucubrare]

What are your biggest turn-offs when reading/watching historical fiction or retellings of myths?

this is really complicated - i can put it in two boxes, both of which are packed very full.

disconnection from the material reality of the past

when characters display a very specifically modern mindset (about social issues especially, but other stuff too)

(I also get bothered by some kinds of modern language - I don't mind it when, idk, an author uses "sensible" with the modern connotation of "practical" and not the 18th century "emotional" or "empathetic", but "yeah" or "okay," or even, as i found out when someone used it in medieval fantasy, "holy shit" will get on my nerves.)

there are modern things where (made up example!) a character who's supposed to be a cook will talk about making caprese salad for a fancy restaurant in December, and someone snarking on the book will say "yeah, right, they should know better than to make something that depends on a fresh summer vegetable!" and even with greenhouses, that's pretty fair. and that's even more extreme in the past. it's 1650 in Verona, it's December, you cannot obtain fresh tomatoes. i don't think this means that people in the past were, necessarily, more emotionally or spiritually in tune with the cycle of the year, or the labor it took to get clothes, or furniture, or any other material item, and of course wealth can insulate people from some of that difficulty, but it does mean that the seasons had more direct impact on people's lives. It's possible to, for example, buy clothes ready-made, but for anything fancy, it's more likely that it'll be made to fit if it's new, or altered extensively and painstakingly if it's not. that means that tearing or staining a fancy dress isn't just an issue of looking bad - you can't just replace it, and you probably won't throw it out - you figure out how to reuse it. those concerns of access to material goods are just a lot closer to the surface of the world than they often are now.

my objections to modern attitudes about the world are not that people in the past 100% accepted the views of their contemporaries - there were always people who didn't, and it makes sense that a protagonist would be one of them. but people wouldn't phrase those objections in the same way that modern people would - say your main character doesn't want a woman accused of being a witch burned. "God's power is such that the Devil cannot give this woman the ability to sour milk" is most likely going to be more persuasive to the crowd than "witches aren't real." and sometimes that's rough - it's not super fun to read about a Roman with Roman attitudes about provincial wars, or slavery in the city, but I put something down because a Roman character said (in internal dialogue) that he was disgusted to see that a man had been tortured because "Romans simply didn't do that." Historical Romans did do that, routinely - a slave could not testify in a law court unless they had been tortured. Even with distasteful things like that, I'd much rather it just be glossed over than to have them say the "correct" modern thing. It just makes it feel too much like the theme park version of the culture.

Both of these are because of specific things I come to historical fiction for - I want that sense of alienation, the gulf of experience. I hate that most historical fiction (and fantasy set in semi-recognizable periods) characters don't really care about Honor, except as a joke, because I love when characters organize their lives around arcane rules and systems that cause tiny things to escalate into blood feud. I just think they're neat! I like it when people's worldviews are shaped by their lack of scientific certainty about what causes crops to fail! If I wanted to read about people who thought and acted like me, and had lives that were mostly similar to mine, only cooler, I'd just read contemporary fiction.

[mygnolia]

TASTE OF LIFE. l. heeseung

THE TALE GOES...heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached. 

pair -› lee heeseung x fem!reader | trope -› horror, literally no fluff | warn -› major character death, violence, stalking | REN SAYS.. first installment! also this is shit guys im so sorry I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT ASAP ugh writing this much lowk killed me </3 | 3k words | library

---

Mediocre. Normal. Ordinary.

That’s exactly how you’d describe the house that stood before you, with your bags tightly held in both hands as you ascended the few stairs to the porch. It felt like any other house, and you’d even compare it to the old one you were in. 

The previous home was different in one major way—it added years of aging onto your parents somehow, as if something had sucked the life out of their minds. It drove them crazy to stay home, and you couldn’t help but be embarrassed every time they mumbled in public about going home. 

They looked crazy. You just had to droop your head and pretend you didn’t know them. 

Your parents’ eyes lit up when they entered through the door, with wood flooring and a color scheme that reflected on their preferences. It was almost identical to your other house, so why exactly did they choose to move to a home that was no different than the last? If anything, you were just glad they were starting to feel more comfortable within the new space. It felt breathable, and something about the old place you lived in felt dirty and plagued. 

It wasn’t much of a struggle as you began to unpack the bags of clothes and boxes of items you brought with you, considering how little you cared about accents and decorations. With furniture already there, your room felt akin to your other one, but something was off. You tried to move the desk over to the window to gauge the effectiveness of the natural lighting, and when your curtains gave way to slightly clouded rays of sunlight in your room, you hummed with some satisfaction. Good enough. 

As Halloween came around, you understood how much everyone in the local town loved to celebrate. Houses on your way to school were filled with webs, lights, and jack-o-lanterns, and it made you believe that the pumpkin farm on the outskirts of town had a smart business model. On top of having an abundance of fall flavored desserts, the Yang family held the biggest party of the year, seeing as their son went to the same high school of yours. 

You had only heard whispers of the annual Yang Halloween party, rumored to be the best party of all time, was something you were looking forward to every year, even anticipating the post-celebration news to hit you from the town over. 

The day neared, and you got more and more excited to finally get to know people ever since you arrived in town. People knew of you as the new girl, but no one reached out, all too consumed in their own cliques to introduce themselves to you. 

—

“Taste,” you told the man waiting outside. “The password is ‘taste.’ “

The windows were tinted in red as moonlight streamed through one side of the building. The rest of the house was dark, with only flashing orange, purple, and green lights strung carefully to add to the mysterious ambience. Music blasted from the speakers and shelves were lined with decorations, ones that you were careful to avoid knocking over as you slid your way between crowds. There seemed to be never ending snacks, as people with tattered black cloaks always managed to keep the drinks filled and the rows neat. 

It was obvious that the family knew what they were doing when it came to throwing parties—you hadn’t seen one person without a smile on their face. The festivities like horror rooms and games were all through-out the floor, and there was always something for everyone to do. 

You fell into conversation with a few people, cutting it short as you excused yourself to the restroom. Down the same hall was a door that was left ajar, and you went to shut it before returning to the boy who you just met. 

“Hi.” 

You jumped back, eyes darting around as you searched for someone to match the sudden voice, and you heard a small curse in the same direction. Your feet were frozen as you only looked around, your hand still on the knob of the empty restroom as you hoped someone would come to break you out of your stupor.

There was nothing, you promised yourself, and the door shut with a click. Still, your gut swirled with fear as you slowly turned, anxiously rubbing the goosebumps on your skin.

“You can hear me, huh?” 

You knew the sound was coming to your left, where the flashing lights were nowhere to be found. All you had was the phone you fished out of your back pocket before you saw a flash of something pale. You immediately turned, trying to find it once more. 

You could’ve sworn there was something. 

“Hello?” You probably looked insane to any bystander, calling out to the dark when you swore you saw something nearby. 

To both your surprise and horror, someone floats through the closet door, his limbs passing through as a grin makes his way onto his features. 

You’d think the ghost in front of you was attractive, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were experiencing something supernatural for the first time. 

Bile rose in your throat as you became disoriented looking at the figure. With a yelp that caught confused stares from only a few people nearby, you scurried out of the house, bumping into bodies as the door grew closer and closer. 

Like a bubble about to burst, the house feels stuffy and humid until you open the large doors, swallowing the cold air of the night like a lifeline. Your head spins with confusion, and you can’t seem to understand what you just saw until he seeps through the wall once more. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” You yelp at the sound of his voice, taking a few steps back as you look anywhere but his sullen face. 

The sound of your heart won triumph over anything else as you kept trying to make space between you and the creature in front of you. When he begins to glide closer, you take it as your sign to grab your small clutch and begin a brisk walk back home, no matter how dark.

“My name is Heeseung. No one’s ever seen me,” he explains, easily drifting behind you. 

“Get the fuck away from me, Heeseung.” Your voice sounded shaky as the wind rushes past your ears. You felt hopeless, unable to hear his footsteps or gauge where he could be. 

He’s right next to you, speaking directly to your profile all of a sudden. “Please, no one’s recognized me since I died. Please, you have to help me.”

The change in proximity has you jumping from being frightened, and you try to cover your ears to block out his voice. 

The worst part of it all was that Heeseung could touch you. You felt the cold of his fingertips without the pressure of his mortality in his fingertips. Effortlessly drifting next to you, he worked to pry your fingers from your ears as a plea for you to hear him out.

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” You began speeding up, seeing your house in sight and the ghost beginning to fall back in his misery. You didn’t care about it, only wanting to go home and pretend everything was a bad dream. While the ghost wasn’t ugly by any means, the supernatural facet of his identity kept you up as you feared the creature outside your window at any moment. 

What you didn’t know was that your gut feeling was right–Heeseung wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. 

—

You didn’t know what was louder–Heeseung’s voice in your ear, or the thudding of your heartbeat. 

Your scream echoed around the empty house when he appeared for the second time, your heart dropping as the lack of sleep you got from the night before made you even more on edge now. Everytime you looked down a corridor, shivers racked your body and you were unable to go anywhere without a flashlight. You swore you saw him in the corner of the room, and if not–something was horribly wrong with you. 

There he was again, staying by the edge. “Please, get away from me, I can’t give you what you want, Heeseung.” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, as if you weren’t shaking from fear that you’d be joined by an intruder everytime you turned the corner.

You couldn’t shower or change without wanting to tear your hair out, and there was no way to quell the anxiety after you saw him stick an arm through your home. 

There was nothing you could do. No one who you could go to about this. You were truly all alone. 

Class felt like a blur with an ache in your head and an emptiness in your stomach. It was exhausting for you to dart around the room, waiting for him to appear. 

He was waiting for something, you knew it. 

You felt on edge constantly, like you were going insane. Every small movement triggered some sort of reaction, so much so that your classmates began to notice and snicker. 

You felt like your parents–and you had no idea how to make it stop. 

—

It was the third day of your sleepless torment. Your parents often left you alone according to their new work schedules, and you were still stuck having to hide from the apparition until you left for school. He looked torn apart, too, but you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give you space. It got so bad to the point where you heard whispers of him in every corridor. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your bloodshot eyes and scratched arms were a sign that something had been wrong ever since Halloween. 

There was only one person you could tell about this, and you didn’t even notice how bad your fingers had been when you went to pick at the dry skin once more. 

“Jungwon,” you mumbled as you passed him. He turned around, immediately recognizing you as someone he didn’t know much about. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern knitting his eyebrows as you asked for him to talk with you outside. 

Something was off that day. The clouds were gray, dipped with unease. The sky was bathed in dread, and Jungwon could tell something was wrong by the way you couldn’t find the sun no matter where you looked. 

“What’s wrong, ____? You’ve been looking horrible ever since Halloween.” You flinched at the word, eyes stinging with tears as you were pushed back into thinking about that night. You never should’ve worn your black dress or added some cute cat ears. You never should’ve left the house. 

“There’s something in your house, Jungwon,” you pleaded, your gaze frantically searching for any sign that Heeseung followed you. “It’s like a spirit, something happened and it won’t—“ your words came to an abrupt halt when you heard a chuckle from the boy in front of you. 

A laugh tore through as Jungwon crossed his arms and looked at you with a pitiful grin. “You’re funny. Good prank, though,” he smiles, about to turn. 

You had no idea what came over you when you went to grab his arm. Jungwon was practically a stranger to you, but one more sleepless night without a cure would’ve made you go insane if he kept following you. You needed to get rid of Heeseung. 

“No!” Your voice rang out louder than anticipated, and the sudden shout made you wince, still holding onto Jungwon’s arm. “You don’t get it, something’s following me around, he keeps talking to me and no one else can see him—“ 

The boy yanked himself out of your grip, suddenly frustrated, and you feared the worst; Yang Jungwon would tell the whole school that you were crazy. 

“Please, Jungwon—” you tried once more, “he’s real—he’s everywhere and I can’t get rid of him—it was because of your party,” at this point, your eyes were filled with tears as you begged your only hope from leaving. “You have to help me—“ 

“I don’t have to do anything for you, ____.” He sneered, growing impatient. “I don’t know who put you up to this whole prank, but you need to stay away from me.” He spun around, paying you no attention as you crumbled to a heap on the ground and sobbed hopelessly on the pavement. 

The sky was darker than ever, and it was still afternoon.

Even as you walked down the empty dirt roads to your house, you couldn’t help but hear Heeseung’s voice ring in your ears. As you started running to push the sound out and replace it with your heavy breathing, your eyes began to shut with exhaustion. Slowing to an eventual stop in front of your house, you heaved, gasping for air that felt like it was escaping your lungs any moment as you held into the porch railing

“You’re home. What took you so long?” 

Your vision was blurring slightly in the corners, and the corners of your eyes felt puffy. You were slipping out of consciousness, but you remembered that voice anywhere. “Get away from me, please.” 

Heeseung pursed his lips, feeling slightly bad for the state that you were in. “I told you, I can help you.”

When you saw his pale shoes in front of you, your body reacted instantly, scrambling back to create some distance. You hadn’t registered that a wooden splinter from the floor cut into your palm until Heeseung saw the blood seep into the planks underneath you. The porch made no sound under his quick footsteps, and it only instilled more frustration at his lack of perceptibility. His sudden approach left you frightened as you waved a hand in the air, unable to feel the wound from the state of your body. “Go away, Heeseung!” 

He frowned angrily. “Let me help.” He kneeled next to you and reached out for your wound before you yanked your hand back, stumbling as you got back up and tried to make your way to the entrance.

“Please, stop,” you cried, taking two steps towards the railing before your legs gave out. Heeseung tried to reach out for you again. But you pushed away his hand, the slap of the force making no sound. It was almost humorous how much your torture was one sided, but you had no more energy left to defend yourself.

Heeseung went to grab your wrist, worry etched in his features as your state deteriorated in front of him. You kicked his leg, hot tears staging your cheeks as you sobbed for him to leave you alone, but the more carelessly you moved, the more the large splinter dug into your hand. He begged for you to stop–to let him help you before anything bad happened, but you couldn’t understand through the sound of your own hysterics. 

A mix of going days without sleeping, paired with your lack of appetite and delirium left you defenseless no matter how much you tried. You struggled against the ghost of Heeseung’s grip as he tried to stop you from hurting yourself even further. You felt bile in your throat when he was close, and you found the opportunity to yank your arm out of his grip. You underestimated the force, however, and your hand hit the wood behind you. Momentarily distracted, you focused on the blooming pain of the impact and the slowly trailing blood. It was out of body how you couldn’t process the sensation of your fingers tracing the messy wound, and you became a slave to your exhaustion as the boy came back.

You fought against him weakly, the blood from your wound becoming a larger problem the more you used your hands to do anything. 

“You don’t get it!” He yelled, tears of his own forming from the anger of having to go against you. 

Why couldn’t you just stop? Why did you keep pushing him away? You were selfish, trying to ignore him as if you didn’t understand his predicament. You were the only one who could’ve seen him, and he was the only one who saw you in return. “Even Jungwon doesn’t believe you,” he mumbled bitterly, seeing you slowly slip in and out. “You wouldn’t even help me, ____. It’s all your fault.” He talked as if you could hear him, the life in your eyes gone by the time he wiped his tears and finally looked at you, with your wrist going limp in his hold. 

“I don’t get it.” He wept angrily, before getting up and leaving you there on the porch steps in a heap. 

Heeseung turned to glance at you again, his semblance of a heart in pain from how things had to end up. “You seemed so nice–so promising. Jungwon swore we could've been friends.”

–

You didn’t know if it was possible to kill a ghost twice. After all, your death turned you into a floating apparition of yourself, as you watched your parents mourn their attempts to shield you from their own fate. Being a ghost wasn’t so horrible, but Heeseung was right; it was lonely. 

When a voice calls your name apologetically from where you sit on your rooftop, your gaze settles on him with fury, and the moment you rush over to him and your fingers close around his wrist, you knew that you wouldn’t stop until you properly got rid of Lee Heeseung.

No matter how long it took.

--

i swear the rest of them will be better. and shorter.

zyvlxqht firstclassjaylee @riribelle @jaylajakey @minfolio @strxwbloody @r1kification @strayy-kidz @mimismenu @jwonistic @haechsworld @machambrx @ririsreverie @hollxe1 @wonnina @heeseungismymanz @cyjhhyj @eunimaybe

[lacroixwh0r3]

Joel, the Magician

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel wants to try something new in the bedroom.

Warnings: SMUT!! pet names, porn with little plot, PiV, use of toys (vibrator), cursing, teasing, dom!joel, joel has a foot fetish (SORRY LMAO), squirting, blindfolding during sex, overstimulation, joel also lowkey has a praise kink, "i love you" at the end, I think that's it (let me know if I missed anything!)

Song inspo (feel free to listen if you want): Religion by Lana Del Rey

A/N: I did not read over this lol this was something I wrote on a whim because I feel like I’ve been neglecting y’all and lowkey was inspired eek, please enjoy!🫶🏾

“Baby, I wanna try something new," Joel looks up from his phone and over at you. "What do you think?”

You, not even paying attention to him, simply agreed to whatever he asked as you continued to read your book. It wasn’t that you didn’t care to listen to him, but the book you were reading was beginning to get interesting, and you were too captivated. 

A mistake on your part. 

“Don’t you wanna know what it is?” Joel asked you, hoping you would press for more information. 

“Not right now, honey,” you tell him distantly. “As soon as I’m done reading, we’ll talk some more.” 

Joel grumbled under his breath something about your book as he looked back at his phone and purchased the item he knew you’d thoroughly enjoy—you both could enjoy it together. 

...

Eventually, days passed and Joel still didn't get the chance to tell you what he wanted to try. You didn't ask, therefore, he thought that maybe it was insignificant to you.

Matter of fact, he forgot all about the item he had order until one day it had finally arrived while you were out running some errands. Joel contemplated telling you about his brand new purchase when you got home, but ultimately decided against it.

After unboxing it, he play with the toy in his hand, feeling the vibrations intensify every time he pushed the button on it. He hadn't even placed it on the charger yet and the vibrations were still intense. His dick jumped at just the mental image of you using it while he watched or him using it on you.

It was as if a light had switched on in his head when he decided that he was going to teach you a lesson. Something you wouldn't forget.

And since tomorrow was date night for the two of you, Joel decided it was going to be perfect to surprise you afterwards.

With a grin on his face, Joel placed the toy on the charger and hid it on his side of the bed, between the headboard and the mattress, before grabbing the boxes and throwing them away before you got home.

...

After a long night out, the only thing you and Joel wanted was to be home.

Date night was a success to say the least—the two of you could hardly keep your hands off of each other the whole night. Joel would try to act like the gentleman he was, but he couldn't himself. Sometimes, he would reach under your tiny dress and tease you over your skimpy little thong or grazing his fingers up your thigh. You weren't any better either though, constantly rubbing your hands over his erection, acting as if it was an accident. Poor Joel having to dismiss himself while he adjusted his pants.

The car ride back home wasn't any better either.

"Darlin', please," he pleaded with you, gripping the steering wheel hard as he tried to focus on the road. "I'm tryna get you home safe, just give it a few and we'll be home shortly." He says, making you pull your lips away from his neck and dropping your hands in your lap.

He peaks over at you to see you pouting out the window. "Oh c'mon, baby. Stop with the pouting." He slightly chuckles as he reaches for your hand in your lap and place a kiss on top of it, making your heart flutter. "You know it's all yours once we get home, right?"

And Joel was not lying when he said this.

The moment you two got home you dashed to your shared bedroom and began stripping yourselves out of your clothes.

As you slipped off your thong, Joel goes to the walk in closet and emerged out with an old tie of his that he rarely wore.

"Joel, baby, what are you doing?" You asked him, confused on why he would need a tie at this moment.

He doesn't respond—he just walks closer to you and kisses you hard, which catches you by surprise. Just as you began to kiss him back, Joel breaks the kiss by gently pushing you down to sit on the bed.

It then clicked in your head at what he was about to do.

You and Joel never blind folded each other during sex before, it just wasn't something either of you were interested in, but you didn't mind trying it out with him for the first time.

"I'm gonna put this around your eyes, is that okay?" He asked you softly as he peered down at you. You nodded your head and he immediately began tying it, ensuring that it wasn't too tight around your head.

"Alright, now lay down on the middle of the bed while I get something," was all he says as he walks to his side of the bed. You wiggle onto the bed some more and lay down.

You just lay there as you listen to him open his night stand and shuffle things around. You're making me nervous, Joel. What are you doing?" You asked as you cover your body with your arms, feeling cold. He then closes is shut and makes his way back to the foot of the bed.

"You gotta trust me, baby," he says to you as he gets on the bed between your legs, pushes them wider, and pauses. "Do you trust me?"

You felt so vulnerable at that moment.

"I do, but I'm a little nervous, that's all." You tell him meekly.

"You have nothing to be nervous about, doll. I'd never do anything to harm you, I swear it on my life," He says and you believe him with your whole heart.

"If you aren't comfortable with anything, you tell me. You got it?"

"Yes, Joel." You say as you nod your head.

"Good," Joel says as he drops the heavy mystery object onto the bed next to the two of you and then grabs your calf to pull you close to him. "Now, I'm gonna fuck that pretty pussy so good," he mumbles as he kisses from your knee, down to your ankle, making you squirm and let out a soft whine.

You feel your whole body tingle the moment his wet lips meet your skin and his heavy cock nudges against your wet clit. He draws his hips back and invites himself into your opening, forcing an airy gasp out of you. "So fuckin' tight," Joel nearly moaned.

Your legs immediately spread wider and your hips shudder against him, wanting him to go deeper. "Feel so good, honey," you moan as he teases your clit, making sure to spread your wetness all over where you two were connected.

His strokes were slow and borderline teasing. "She's so wet for me, baby. So fuckin' wet," he says as if he was in disbelief. You wished you could see the look on his face, seeing those gorgeous brown eyes looking down at you while he made you feel good.

"It's all because of you," you whimper. "It's always you." You could feel his cock twitch inside of you every time you spoke to him; Joel loved when you praised him.

"Mmhmm, that's right, baby. It's always gonna be me makin' you feel this good." He tells you as he rubs circles around your clit. While he does this, you feel him grip your ankle, removing it from his shoulder.

Suddenly, you feel the warmth of his mouth around your toes, making you gasp and moan at the same time. "J-Joel, you can't do that, stop." You try to say as sternly as possible, but with what you are feeling, you can't help it. You even go as far as to try to remove your toes from his mouth, but he holds a tight grip on you. "This isn't normal," You plead but to no avail, he keeps going.

You could feel yourself relax as he slips your toe from his mouth. However, that relaxation quickly came to an end.

"Good thing we ain't normal, baby," he says before slipping your other toe into his mouth and groaning around them.

You almost scolded him, but as you go to do so, the head of his cock nudges the spot in you perfectly. "You're gonna make me cum, oh my god!" You warn him as you feel your whole body clench, including your pussy. The way he sucked and licked felt similar to what he would do to your clit.

He grunts and stops immediately once you say this.

You felt so ashamed about enjoying this because this was something that you never in your life thought about doing, like ever. Yet, there you were getting your toes sucked by the man that you love and it was turning you on.

Joel moves your foot from his mouth and widens both of your legs. "The fun hasn't even started yet and you're already bout to cum for me, such a dirty girl," He teases, making you tremble with anticipation. "You like being a dirty girl, don'tcha?"

You didn't even need to see his face to know he had that handsome smirk on his face.

"Only for you, Joel," you sigh with pleasure, angling your hips so he could fuck

"That's right, sweet girl." He praises you as he grabs the object from beside you. You feel as he places the bulbous head of the object on top of your clit and you couldn't quite tell what it was, but your clit pulses with excitement.

"What's tha-" You were about to ask, but before you could even do that you were cut off by a powerful vibration against your clit. "H-holy fu-baby? what the f-fuck is that?" You try to reach for the toy, but Joel quickly stops you.

"Move your fuckin' hands before I tie them up next," he threatened. His tone was so harsh; it should've scared you, but it pushed you beyond arousal. You loved it when he was rough with you in the bedroom. You believed it balanced perfectly with how he usually treated you outside the bedroom—so soft, so tender, so lovingly.

You do as he says, now gripping at your breast. "Look at that, always listenin' to me like a good girl," he praises you as he steadily drives his cock into you.

"Please, harder, Joel." You whimper, tweaking your nipples. "I need you to fuck me harder."

Joel nearly came inside of you once you said that, but had fortunately recovered. He knew that if he came, he was going to cum hard and he would probably need to rest afterward.

He does what you demand and drives himself into you harder as he grinds the wand against your clit. With every thrust, you let out a squeak, not from discomfort, but from pleasure.

You loved everything about this.

He could feel you clenching around him, trying to withhold your orgasm, but this wasn't like any other time. This time he wanted you to cum as much as you could without any restraint. "Don't hold it, darlin'. I want you to cum all over my cock." Joel huffs out as he keeps up his pace.

After he said that, you let out little gasps as you got closer to cumming. He focused himself on you, watching the sheen of sweat cover your body as you breathed heavily and squirmed.

The head of Joel's cock nudged your g-spot perfectly along with the perfect placement of the vibratory, leaving you shaking. You whispered to Joel for him to keep going until you couldn't speak anymore. Your trembles had grown stronger and your head fell back as you released the loudest noise Joel had ever heard from you thus far.

"So fuckin' beautiful while you come on my cock,"

You felt like your soul was everywhere, but in your body at that moment. And no matter how tired Joel was, he continued his hard strokes.

"J-Joel," You sputtered as you felt another orgasm bubbling up. "I'm gonna-i'm gonna cum again."

Joel didn't say anything.

Instead, he slows his thrust to the point that you can barely get any pleasure and holds the button to turn off the toy before dropping it on the bed.

“Wha-what’d you do that for?” you whine loudly, as you left your head from the bed, still unable to see. He grabs your flailing hands that were once desperate to hold something and brings them to the wand.

Joel’s grip was tight as he made a fist around the silicone. “You wanna hold somethin’? hold onto this,” Joel groans out as the wand jolts back to life on your clit again, but this time he double-clicks it. This time, the vibrations were much harsher than before. “you’re gonna help me while I fuck you s'more.”

You nearly started to scream as you tightly held it in place. Joel almost had you folded like a pretzel the way that he nearly placed his weight on you as he held the back of your knees so your legs were wide open. You could feel the stretch of your legs and knew you would be sore the next morning, but you could also feel yourself clench around him at the thought. This makes Joel hunch over you more and groan loudly.

He tries to start this thrust again, but his hips sharply shutter against you, feeling the intense vibration at his base. But Joel was going to persist through it; he was going to fuck you regardless of how much the pleasure made his whole body weak.

He pounded into your sopping-wet pussy. Usually, he would talk you through your orgasms, letting out his sexy groans from time to time. But right now, Joel released these noises that you could only describe as primal, and they were just as sexy, if not more.

"C-Cum for me, honey." You encourage him, attempting to get him to cum. "Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum all over me?" you purred.

He lets out a noise in agreement, his relentless pounding never wavering. With your free hand, you snatch the tie from around your eyes and throw its neck to the two of you, needing to see Joel's gorgeous face as he fucked you.

The moment you locked eyes with him, your legs quivered and shook. Your hole pulsed around him as you came around him once more, only this time you could feel this pressure that felt like you were going to pee.

You didn't feel it often, but it was a familiar sensation that happened once and only ever with Joel.

"Oh my god, Joel, I'm gonna sq-" and before you could finish your sentence your eyes fluttered back and the liquid began spurting out whenever Joel thrust back. When he looked down and realized what was happening, Joel knew he was done for.

"Fuuck, baby," he moaned as he pulled out of you and placed the tip of his cock against the wand, and jerked off his shaft. His warm cum jetted out far onto your torso and stomach while his hips jerked.

Finally, you caught the end of him cumming after it felt like you were placed back on earth. "Look at you, baby, so beautiful when you cum for me," you whispered as you ran your fingers through his cum on you.

You realize he is done when he releases his cock and grabs the wand from your hands before turning it off and throwing it somewhere on the bed. he falls down on the bed as he tries to catch his breath.

You cover your eyes with the inside of your arm, too exhausted to do anything. You both were.

"I love you, Joel Miller," you mumble, not even waiting for him to say it before falling into a deep sleep. You knew he loved you and that's all that mattered.

...

A/N: OKAYYY! I feel like a freak for writing that, but I hope y'all loved it. please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want<333

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 2)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

The following day, however, brought a gloomy atmosphere into the room as, at around 6 o'clock, there was a knock on your bedroom door, causing you to startle.

Until that night, you had never shared a bed with Tommy , and the thought of being interrupted whilst still lying naked next to him made you shudder.

"Who is it?" Thomas barked, quickly wrapping a white sheet around his waist.

"It's Arthur," came the distorted voice of Tommy's older brother, resulting in Tommy jumping out of the bed, collecting his briefs from the floor and throwing them on. "What is it, Arthur?" Tommy asked as he hurriedly opened the door to reveal Arthur, standing there, waving at you while you simply blushed with embarrassment. 

"Something's happened," Arthur blurted out. "Down at the docks."

Tommy looked at you, hunched up on the bed, clutching a sheet to your bare breasts. "Go put some clothes on, Love. I'll be back soon," he signaled to you, and you nodded in silence.

As soon as Tommy left the room, you crawled off the bed to gather your scattered garments from the floors, wondering what the problem was on site.

Since you moved into Tommy's house, there had been a lot of trouble at the docks and in his factories and when you asked your now husband about it, he would usually brush it off. 

He often put it down to strikes or interruptions due to equipment breakdown and, as his partner in life, of course, you believed him. 

Tommy was a businessman, not a criminal, and whilst you thought that his brother and Gypsie acquaintances were rather rough around the edged, you knew that Tommy was a good man.

He was a man who would do anything for you and you appreciated his kindness and the love he gave you, especially after you had been abandoned by all the other men in your life before him.

Even your older brother left you to your own devices when you were just seventeen, moving away from Birmingham without a word, as a result of which the home your parents had partially owned was being foreclosed on.

You had no choice but to move out and find work to sustain yourself, to be able to maintain a roof over your head and pay for your rent. And even then, it didn’t always suffice.

You were fired from three jobs until you found work at the Garrison and now you knew that you never had to work again.

Tommy took care of you now, treated you well and, even though he was determined to have children with you, he respected your wishes to wait.

He bought you horse, a white stallion and you were assigned not one, but two maids, which was something you always considered to be odd. 

If you wanted to go to town and spend some time shopping, Tommy had a maid and a driver accompany you and today wasn't much different when you decided to head into the city of Birmingham for some groceries. 

"Mrs Shelby, there really is no need. I can send an errand boy to do the shopping," Frances told you as you waved the list of items you wanted to buy in her perfectly manicured face with excitement. 

"But I insist Frances. I want to do the shopping and then, tonight, I will cook a nice meal for my husband," you told her politely, seeing that you had always enjoyed to cook but had not done so ever since you moved to Arrow House. 

"Very well, Mrs Shelby. Whatever you wish," she answered in a silky voice that reeked of credulousness.

"Fabulous. I know a really nice Italian Grocer by the Canal side. Do you think Isiah could drive me there?" you asked, knowing that Tommy was always rather worried about your safety and wouldn't have liked you driving yourself.  Frances hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Shelby," she said bluntly, but not without a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'll call Isiah right away."

You smiled appreciatively at Frances and headed off to the bathroom, quickly freshening up before heading to the car that would take you to the Italian grocer.

The car ride was comfortable and peaceful, and you couldn't help but marvel at how much your life had changed since you first met Thomas Shelby.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to the front of the grocery store.

The sun was shining brightly outside, illuminating the bustling streets of Birmingham and casting a warm glow on the picturesque canal that ran along the side of the store.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted towards you from nearby cafes and pubs, mixing with the distant horns and clatter of the ships moving through the canal locks.

"My mother always took me here when I was little. It's a nice little shop run by a lovely Italian family. My older brother, Alfred, used to bring me here all the time too, just after payday, before-" You paused, your smile faltering slightly. "Before he left to god knows where," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper and Isiah simply nodded with sympathy while you stepped into the shop.

The smell of coffee and bread greeted you as the door jingled shut behind you. Despite the modern facade, the interior remained cozy with a wooden counter in the middle that displayed a variety of pasta and cured meats. On the shelves, colorful tins of tomatoes and olive oil lined the walls.

Remembering the list in your hand, you carefully navigating your way through the narrow aisles and stocked up on your ingredients. 

"I am sorry ma'am, but we don't serve Blinders here," one of the Italians said to you as you roamed through the shop and, since you had no idea what the man was talking about, you just laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" you queried, confused while Isiah appeared behind you, flashing the gun hidden beneath his jacket, thinking that you wouldn't notice.

"We don't want any trouble miss," the stocky man corrected himself quickly, and you quickly blinked, trying to process what was happening.

"Why would I give you trouble?" you asked innocently, unable to make sense of what exactly was going and Isiah then politely urged you to finish up your shopping. 

Without another word, you filled up your basket, paid for your groceries and left the store, feeling a sudden chill in the air despite the brilliant sunshine.

Isiah escorted you back to the waiting car in silence but you had so many questions that needed answering, but you refrained yourself from asking, believing that your new husband would soon explain everything to you when you returned home.

The short car ride was again filled with a heavy silence and you couldn’t help but feel unsettled. 

As you walked through the front door, Frances took the groceries from your hands and you made your way upstairs to your bedroom to get changed.  After a quick shower, you slipped into a nice but comfortable dress that Thomas had given to you as a gift.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and felt a pang of happiness in your chest. Your life had changed so dramatically since being with him and you couldn’t deny that you were happy.

You then made your way downstairs to unpack the groceries and start cooking. It was still early but you knew that the dish you were making had to sit in the oven for almost eight hours on low heat, so you knew to better get cracking.  You were pleased with the simplicity and warmth of the task at hand, letting your mind relax as you chopped and sautéed the vegetables and meat.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter you had at the grocer. The man’s peculiar reference to “Blinders” and the sudden appearance of Isiah’s gun were both alarming and confusing. But, you shook the thoughts away, telling yourself that there was likely a simple explanation.

Tommy had an explanation for everything and, just as you were thinking about him, he came walking through the door of the large and rarely used kitchen in wing one of Arrow House, far away from the staff quarters.  He greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and looking at you contently.

"How did you go?" you asked your husband , referring to whatever business he had down at the docks.

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, eyeing you carefully. "Fine," he told you. "There was some stock missing, but we dealt with it," Thomas explained, leaving out the gruesome details of the beating he ordered his men to give out. 

"You know I employed a chef to do the cooking, Love ," Thomas said, changing the subject as he watched you chopping the vegetables.

"I'm aware, but I love to cook for you. I am your wife and this is what wives do, isn't it?" you smirked  at Thomas, challenging him.

Thomas chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his drink. "Yes, of course. I suppose it is," he conceded, a heartfelt smile playing on his lips as he drew closer from behind. 

Thomas encircled your waist with one arm and nuzzled your neck  softly, causing you to giggle and shiver at the same time.

"You look quite sexy in that dress and apron, Love ," Thomas murmured in your ear, giving it a slight nibble that triggered a heated blush infiltrating your cheeks.

You glanced at him with a playful smile before turning around, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his muscular chest, only to feel the outline of his gun sitting firmly in its halter.

"Why would you need to carry a gun?"  you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze. Thomas' eyes flickered down to the gun before meeting your gaze again.

"Just a precaution, Love. There are some dangerous people in this city," Thomas replied, his voice low and serious.

You nodded, understanding his concerns but still feeling uneasy about the situation. Thomas seemed to sense your disquiet and leaned down to kiss you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his arms tightening around you briefly before releasing you.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied softly, your hands still resting on his chest.

Your heart softened towards Thomas in that moment, feeling a deep affection for him. You loved him deeply and you trusted him implicitly. Knowing him as well as you did, it was hard to imagine that his business dealings could be anything but legitimate, even as you had heard rumors about his involvement in illegal activities.

Thomas had always dismissed these rumors as mere speculation, nothing more than idle gossip and slander from his rivals. And yet, as you stood there in the warm kitchen, with the smell of dinner filling the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you since your visit to the Italian grocer.

"I should really get back to cooking, Tommy," you said eventually, stepping out of Thomas' embrace and starting to chop the vegetables again, but Tommy simply removed the knife from your hand.

"The cooking can wait," he said huskily. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how beautiful you looked this morning when you were sleeping," he murmured as he nibbled your earlobe. 

"I suppose we could eat a little later than usual,"  you replied, the tension from earlier melting away as Thomas' lips moved to your neck.

The room felt warm and intimate as the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Fuck, I want you," Thomas whispered hoarsely as his hands traveled down your body, cupping your ass roughly.

You let out a soft cry as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs apart with a confident movement that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Tommy, what if a maid walks in?" you giggled nervously, your voice breathless as Thomas' fingers deftly slipped beneath your dress and apron.

"Then let them watch ," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire.

He tugged your panties down, exposing your wet and eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

"You are unbelievable, Thomas!" you chuckled softly just before his fingertips traced the delicate folds of your sex, your body trembling beneath his touch.

Thomas wasted no time, plunging two fingers deep into your core.

"Oh god, Tommy," you cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. So ready for me," Tommy groaned as his thumb teased your clit, and you writhed on the counter, grinding against his hand. You felt shameless and exposed, but also incredibly alive.

As Thomas unzipped his trousers, you watched through hooded eyes, your breath hitching as his hard cock sprang free.

He stroked it a couple of times, smearing pre-cum over the tip before using it to coat your slit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Thomas chuckled for a second. "Eager, aren't we?" he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip as you felt him push inside your tight warmth, stretching you mercilessly. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, you're tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pistoned back and forth.

"Tommy, oh god please," you whimpered, unable to form complete sentences as the pleasure built inside of you.

"I love feeling you inside me ," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you added, your voice barely above a whisper and, immediately, Thomas' eyes met yours for a brief moment, his gaze intense as he continued to fuck you.

"Neither have I, Love," Tommy told you and you cried out, biting your lip to try and contain the noise as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the tension building stronger and stronger until the waves of static pleasure crashed inside of you and, suddenly, you felt yourself falling, falling, falling and, as you kept screaming, the waves of pleasure crashed over and over again, never ending.

"Fuck, yes. That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, holding back his own release until you came down from your high. He then pulled out , springing free, and grabbed his cock, giving it a few quick thrusts as he sprayed hot streams of cum across your naked thighs.

Thomas leaned forward, moving your hair off your sweaty forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before stepping back, still catching his breath.

Reaching for his handkerchief  , he started to wipe the remnants of their earthly pleasures of desperation and passion from between your thighs and from his limp cock before zipping up his trousers again.

“Are you alright, Love?” he addressed you gentler than ever before and you simply nodded silently, before reaching for a glass of water and taking a deep sip, feeling a little thirsty after your vigorous desperation for passion and how ‘earthshattering’ your release became.

Thomas poured himself another glass of whiskey and watched you closely as you collected yourself.

"Now that was quite unexpected," you admitted, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself off the counter and swinging your legs down to the ground.

"Was it?" he chuckled before lightening himself a cigarette and offering one to you, which you accepted graciously. 

"You know, something really strange happened today when Isiah took me to the Italian Grocer by the Canal on East Street," you started, changing the topic, as you took a deep drag from your cigarette. Thomas arched an eyebrow, encouraging you to go on.

"While I was picking up some fresh produce for dinner, one of the Italians in store told me that they weren't serving 'Blinders' at their shop and, when I queried him about what he meant by that, he told me that he didn't want any trouble. I think he saw Isiah's gun, but I can't be sure. It all was very confusing," you recounted the incident, trying to piece together what happened.

At that moment, Thomas' body language changed entirely. He leaned his head to the side, squinting his left eye and pressing his lips firmly together, as he listening to your confession.

"Did the man say anything else?"  Thomas' voice was low and measured as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"No," you shook your head. "Well, not that I could understand," you told him, causing your husband to clear his throat. 

"And what did the Italian look like?"  Thomas questioned you with a furrowed brow, as he tried to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on the incomplete information you offered.

"Tall, skinny. He was about thirty years old, with dark hair and dark eyes," you said, almost absentmindedly, as you went on to describe more about the Italian's appearance. Then, suddenly, it struck you just how off-putting the interaction had become now, and some anxiety washed over you again. "Why are you asking?"  you questioned Thomas, wondering about the reasoning behind the sudden interest in the man you met earlier today.

Thomas, sensing your apprehension, gave you a reassuring smile as he stubbed out his cigarette, extinguishing the glowing embers.

"No reason. Just mere curiosity, Love," Tommy told you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now, why don't you finish cooking while attend some more business in town, eh?" he told you, his voice gentle and loving, but you noticed a hint of something else in his eyes, something that you couldn't quite identify.

"Alright Tommy," you agreed nonetheless and Thomas kissed you deeply one last time, before grabbing his hat and coat and disappearing off to town.

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[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER FOUR I series masterlist I wc: 3.4k

WARNINGS:

hurt/angst, lonelines, lots of dialogue

AUTHORS NOTE:

thank you to @amiableness my love as always gave me the encouragement i need for these things!

sorry for the long wait! i played hogwarts legacy for the first time and got sucked in. but it did help me with visioning locations and everything. hopefully chapter four was worth the wait (idk feels like a filler lol)

The past few days had been agonizingly unproductive since you realized the extent of your memory loss—entire chunks of the last year and a half simply gone. 

Hermione, stubborn as ever, refused to tell you what you were missing, no matter how much you begged. You knew she was hiding something, and it frustrated you to no end. These were your memories, after all—you had every right to know what had been erased.

The memory that played in the great hall never left you. You couldn’t be sure if it was a fragment of what was lost or just your mind playing tricks on you. Either way, it felt personal, too personal to share with her without knowing for certain if it was real.

But every time you tried to push through and remember more, it was as if a wall slammed down in your mind, sending a jarring, almost painful shock that stopped you cold. Why had this happened to you? Was it an accident, or had someone targeted you? The questions were maddening.

Caught in a loop of pacing and rubbing your temples in frustration, you accidentally kicked your trunk, sending the pile of jumpers and a tie sprawling across the floor. Huffing in annoyance, you bent down to fold them again, ignoring the nagging sense of familiarity they stirred. You were too irritated, too overwhelmed to connect it.

Just as you finished folding the last item, Grace walked in, looking thoroughly exhausted.

“Tough class?” you asked, trying to shift your focus.

She let out a small, tired laugh as she dropped her bag at the foot of her bed. “I wish. Just boys not taking no for an answer,” she sighed.

You shot her a sympathetic look, knowing the feeling all too well. “Wouldn’t happen to be a certain Slytherin whose clothes I keep tripping over, would it?” you teased, holding up the pile.

Grace gave you a sharp, confused look for a moment, and you worried you’d said the wrong thing. But then she forced a smile. “Right! That’s… um, exactly why he’s upset, but he really shouldn’t have left his closet in our dorm,” she said, a nervous edge to her voice.

“Serves him right,” you laughed, before glancing at the clothes again. “But on a serious note, could you possibly return these to him? Or maybe I should just throw them out? They’re taking up space, and I keep knocking them over.”

“Oh,” Grace said, eyes widening like she’d just been reminded of something important. She grabbed the pile from you a bit too quickly. “Of course! I’ll do that right now.”

Before you could protest or tell her she didn’t need to rush, she was already out the door, leaving you standing there, even more confused than before.

In her hurried state, she might have noticed the pesky tie that slipped off again. 

You knew you needed to study and catch up on your missing assignments, but any excuse to procrastinate sounded more appealing. Weighing your options for a brief moment, you grabbed the tie and left the room, hoping to catch up with her.

Exiting your out of the common room and bounding down the stairs, you guessed Grace was heading toward the Slytherin area.

Hopefully, you could catch her but luck wasn’t on your side—she was on a mission, and you didn’t spot her once as you made your way through the castle.

The dungeons weren’t a place you frequented, so you were surprised when you managed to navigate there on your first try. 

Upon arriving, you saw Theo trudging down the steps, the pile of clothes in his arms. You faltered, a strange pang coursing through you for reasons you couldn’t explain.

You considered a quick escape, but Theo called your name before you had a chance to move.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. You didn’t have any classes together today, so it was unexpected to see you. He shifted the clothes under his arm, stepping closer.

“I tried to catch Grace—she dropped this,” you awkwardly gestured to the tie in your hand, “but I guess I found the culprit.”

Theo’s eyes widened at the implication, his heart sinking a bit. “No, these aren’t mine,” he quickly corrected.

You shot him a skeptical look. “So, you and Grace aren’t... involved?” you asked, waving your hand in a vague motion.

Theo scrunched his face in disgust, shaking his head. “No, never. She’s just a friend. She gave these to me to return to one of the guys.”

“Right,” you said, though still not entirely convinced. “Well, make sure he gets his tie back, too.” You draped it over the pile in his arms.

“Right, of course. Thank you for bringing it,” Theo smiled, and any doubt you had about him lying slowly drifted away. You found yourself staring at him, that smile triggering a flash of a memory—the same one from before.

Could it have been real? Theo seemed different now, kinder than you remembered. And how had you never noticed how... easy on the eyes he was?

“Woah, Tesoro, are you okay?” Theo’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you realized he had a hand on your shoulder and another gently cupping your cheek. The clothes he’d been holding were forgotten on the ground. 

His face was so close to yours that you instinctively took a step back, but the absence of his touch left you yearning.

“I’m sorry, what?” you said, dazed and confused, not fully processing why he was asking.

“Your nose—it’s bleeding. Let’s get you to sit down,” he said urgently, grabbing the tie and guiding you to a nearby bench. You almost tripped from how sudden it was.

“I’m fine, really, Theodore,” you insisted, brushing it off. “This is probably the fourth one today.” The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted it.

“Fourth?” His tone grew tense, his eyes full of concern. “Are they accompanied by anything else? Headaches? Nausea? Fainting spells?” He inspected you, wiping the blood from your upper lip with the now-ruined tie.

You shrugged, trying to seem unbothered. “Not all the time. I don’t think it’s that serious.”

Theo, however, looked far from reassured. “That’s not normal,” he muttered your name, his worry etched deeply into his face.

“Theo, really, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” you tried to comfort him, but his expression barely softened. Hearing you use his name, though, seemed to snap him back. He pulled back slightly, still visibly rattled. 

“Right, sorry,” he stammered, dropping his hands from you as if your touch burned him. 

“I appreciate the concern, though,” you said, genuinely touched by how much he seemed to care. A stark contrast from the Theo you were used to. “Could we talk later? I have this thing that I can’t seem to figure out.” 

He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your suggestion. In truth, you were a bit surprised by it yourself.

“I have Quidditch practice tonight, but how about tomorrow?” he offered, a bit nervously.

“Perfect,” you grinned. “See you tomorrow then, Theodore.”

He smiled in return, and for a moment, you found yourself wanting to stay and just stare at him. Another part of you still hesitated, wary of his past actions and the memories you couldn’t access. But maybe he had the answers. 

You watched him walk away, a slight spring in his step as he bent to pick up the discarded clothes. He disappeared into the Slytherin common room, the snake door sliding shut. The sight surprisingly comforted you. 

You sat for a moment before finally rising from the bench and starting the walk back to your common room. Your mind was a tangled mix of questions, emotions, and fleeting familiarities that refused to come into focus. It felt like your brain was in overdrive, struggling to fill in blanks without knowing where to start.

The walk back to your dorm felt like a blur, your mind racing with thoughts of how to piece together the gaps in your memory. You needed answers, but the trio seemed determined to keep you out of the loop, offering vague reassurances that only deepened your frustration.

You hated the way they looked at you—like you were fragile, something to be handled with care. It made you feel small, like you weren’t capable of understanding your own situation. The growing silence around what was happening to you was suffocating, and your dorm had become the only place where you didn’t feel on edge.

As you spotted Harry ahead in the corridor, you sped up, determined to find a distraction from the overwhelming pressure of your missing memories. You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, forcing a smile. “Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while. Want to sneak off to Hogsmeade?”

Harry hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trouble, I would, really, but I’ve got Quidditch practice tonight.”

Your smile faltered, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. If Slytherin had practice, there was no way Gryffindor did too. The rivalry between the two houses was so intense they could barely play fair in an actual game, let alone share the pitch for practice. You opened your mouth to question him, but Harry quickly cut you off.

“Tomorrow, yeah? We can go then. It’s Saturday, so no sneaking required.” Giving you an awkward smile. 

“Right. Tomorrow.” You nodded, but the unease gnawed at you. First Theo, now Harry. The feeling of being lied to—it stung more than you wanted to admit. Harry never hid things from you before, and Theo—well, you didn’t know him well enough to judge, but it still hurt.

You turned away before Harry could say more, heading in the opposite of his direction- mind you was not towards the pitch. 

When you finally reached your dorm and shut the door behind you, the quiet hit you hard. Alone again, the weight of the past few days crashed down. You dropped onto your bed, letting out a shaky breath. The frustration, confusion, and hurt welled up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling more isolated than ever.

No one was being honest with you. They were keeping you at arm’s length, treating you like you couldn’t handle the truth. You were left to fend for yourself, with only half the pieces to a puzzle that seemed impossible to solve. You felt pushed aside, only to be dealt with when it was convenient.

It hurt more than you wanted to admit, and the pity party you were throwing yourself was, for the moment, the only thing that felt comforting.

“Fridays, we’ll go to the Astronomy Tower at midnight. It’ll be our thing.”

The words jolted you awake. You blinked, disoriented, scanning the dark room. The moonlight filtered in softly, casting long shadows. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, hoping to find the source of the voice, but the room was silent. Your roommates’ curtains were drawn, and their steady breathing filled the space.

You lay back, trying to make sense of what you’d heard. Maybe it was a dream. Or maybe, another memory trying to break through the haze?

After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, it became clear you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep. Frustrated, you sighed and threw off the covers, slipping on your shoes. Before you knew it, you were out the door, your curiosity leading you through the corridors.

You tiptoed through the common room, careful not to wake anyone. Without Harry’s cloak, you had to rely on the disillusionment spell to stay hidden, but you knew it wasn’t foolproof. 

You navigated the quiet halls, turning corners and climbing staircases with no real sense of direction, yet somehow you felt like you were being pulled somewhere—guided by the echo of those words.

Soon enough, you found yourself at the base of the Astronomy Tower. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu before your feet carried you up the winding staircase. The ascent felt both familiar and foreign, like a path you had walked countless times. It felt like your body was moving on its own, like it knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

When you finally reached the top, you paused. The silence of the tower wrapped around you, and with a quiet exhale, you removed the disillusionment spell, standing under the vast, starry sky.

The silence was broken by a cough, jolting you from your thoughts. You nearly screamed, spinning around to see Theo sitting against the railing, watching you with curious eyes.

“Merlin! Theodore, you scared me!” you hissed, clutching your chest as your heart pounded.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing. You glared at him, but he just smiled.

“What are you doing up here?” you asked, exasperated as you stepped closer to where he was sitting.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked. The teasing tone was so typical of him, and despite everything, it brought you some comfort.

You rolled your eyes. “Needed some air. And you?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

“You know those things will kill you, right?” you said, deciding to sit down next to him. You tucked your legs beneath you, resting your back against the railing.

“I’ve heard,” he replied, exhaling the smoke away from you before flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his foot.

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to lecture him about the littering. “Maybe you should take their advice.”

He chuckled softly humming in response, leaning his head back against the railing, eyes closed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Strangely, you felt more at ease up here with him than you had in days.

With his eyes closed, you stole a glance at his face—the messy hair, the moles dotting his skin, and those lips… You quickly looked away, mentally scolding yourself.

“So,” he said, grabbing your attention. His gaze so focused it made you avert your eyes again, “what really brought you up here?”

“I’m… not sure,” you admitted, fidgeting with the fraying edge of your skirt. “I thought I heard a voice, but it could’ve been a dream. It said something about Astronomy Tower at midnight, and I got curious.”

You noticed Theo’s jaw clench briefly before relaxing again, making you frown slightly. “And you?” you asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Just needed some quiet,” he said, hesitating for a moment. “But… what was it you wanted to talk about earlier?”

You had nearly forgotten about that. Now that he asked, the words seemed to stick in your throat. You wanted to say you could wait, let him have his moment of peace, but you needed answers.

“Oh, right,” you sighed, unsure of where to start. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“Take your time,” Theo reassured, his voice soft, and you were grateful to see no judgment in his eyes.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. It was hard to know where to even begin.

“Long story short, I lost a chunk of my memories,” you started, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And the other day, I think I had a flashback of one… with you?”

Theo immediately straightened himself, his attention fully locked on you.

“I was—um, what was your memory about?” he asked, his voice a little shaky as if he was trying to stay calm, but you could sense a bit of hope behind his eyes.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, giving him a serious look, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. “We were in the Forbidden Forest, I think. I was upset about a letter, and you came along, and we… burned it. Does that sound familiar at all?” You searched his face, praying that this wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Theo’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. He looked torn, like saying the wrong thing might somehow hurt you more.

“It’s just… we only had our first conversation a few days ago, right?” you added, trying to lighten the mood despite the tension.

He grimaced slightly, rubbing his eyes. “No,” he sighed, his voice heavy. “That was a memory. That night in the Forbidden Forest—that was the first time we really talked. I was out there trying to clear my head, had a lot going on, and then I heard you. You were crying. I didn’t expect to find you out there.”

“Have we… had more conversations since that night?” you asked cautiously, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion.

Theo hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, we did.” 

“Could you tell me more? Did we hang out after that? Were we friends or just acquaintances? I just feel so lost and confused. You confirming this is the first bit of clarity I’ve had in days,” your voice cracked, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally slipping through.

Theo’s face shifted, a mixture of pain and hesitation crossing his features. He looked away briefly, his hands gripping the railing beside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, careful. “I wish I could tell you everything… I really do.”

He paused, glancing at you before continuing. “But… it’s not that simple.”

Your heart sank at his words, a mix of frustration and sadness settling in your chest. “Why? What’s stopping you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me. We just don’t know what could happen if we sprung all this information onto you, how the spell or you would react if we try to fill in all the gaps. I mean you’re already having nosebleeds and intense migraines from no one even saying anything. If we push too hard, it could make things worse.”

Theo’s voice softened as he continued. “I just don’t want to hurt you more than you’re already hurting.” His eyes searched yours, hoping you’d understand.

You looked away, the sting of disappointment dulling the relief you’d felt just moments ago. “But I need to know, Theo. I can’t keep living like this, with these blanks and half-truths. Everyone’s treating me like I’m fragile, like I’ll shatter if they say the wrong thing.” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and helplessness rising to the surface.

Theo shifted closer, his hand hovering just above yours before he hesitated and withdrew. “I get it,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But trust me when I say this—it’s not that we’re all in on some secret without you. We’re just… trying to keep you safe.”

The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You could see the struggle there, the pull between wanting to protect you and the desire to be honest. He wasn’t just holding back for the sake of secrecy—it was out of concern for you.

“Safe from what?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. “I feel more trapped than safe. Like I’m stuck behind this wall, and everyone’s watching me struggle without actually helping.”

Theo exhaled, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but we’re doing the best we can. It’s not that we don’t want to tell you—it’s that we don’t know what’ll happen if we do.”

You bit your lip, feeling that familiar swell of frustration rise again. “So I’m just supposed to wait? Until what? Until my memories come back on their own? What if they never do?”

Theo breath stutters and he hesitates. He’s tried his best not to think of that possibility, that you’ll come back to him and this in time would be a funny memory. “I don’t have all the answers. But you’re not alone in this, okay? Even if it feels like it.” 

You wanted to believe him. Despite everything, you could sense that Theo genuinely cared, even if he couldn’t give you the answers you desperately sought. You looked at him, your chest tightening with the mix of anger and sadness swirling inside you. “I just wish I knew what I was missing.”

Theo nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with the weight of things left unsaid. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. The cool night air seemed to press down, the weight of your shared secrets hanging in the space between you.

Finally, you nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort in Theo’s promise, even if it couldn’t give you what you needed right now.

If you enjoyed, please please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write and make me so happy <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[ghost-proofbaby]

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 

“What if I say please?” 

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 2] Toji's Miserable Attempts to Change Your Mind

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You’ve had many plans for your life, but packing your clothes to move out from your apartment– Toji’s apartment, at twenty seven years of age wasn’t one of them. Even though it was your decision, you never thought you’d be getting divorced. You really love Toji, and while part of you really wants to stay, you know you need to leave.

He tries to convince you to stay, loving you the best way he knows how to: having sex. You don’t turn him down even though you probably should since you’re separating. It’s temporary as you move out. You keep each other entertained, as bad as it sounds. He has sex with you to get you to stay and you simply enjoy it.

Things have changed though, a month later you find an apartment that you can afford with the new job that you got. You have some savings from the occasional allowance that Toji gave you (once a month and it couldn’t even buy you a damn loaf of bread), and of course apart from your day job as a receptionist, you’ve gotten a waitressing job during nights. You’re trying your best to save up and move out. You’re not taking care of the house or anything and you’re hoping that maybe that’ll finally get Toji to sign the divorce papers that he refuses to sign. 

Toji didn’t expect to come back home to this. You’re grabbing your clothes from the closet and shoving them into a suitcase. There must be a better way to do this all but it seems like you’re in a rush to leave. You don’t seem to notice his presence or at the very least, you ignore it.

“Are you really doing this?” Toji clears his throat and speaks up to catch your attention. You give him a side eye before walking into the closet to get more clothes. Toji really thought for a moment that sex would be enough to get you to stay, you had no problem accepting it anyway; but you’re still packing your stuff, “I hope you know that I won’t support you. You’re doing this because you chose to, I will fight tooth and nail so you don’t get a single penny from me.”

“I don’t want your stupid money.” You’re clearly annoyed and you display it in your tone. You feel underappreciated because he doesn’t care to notice that you’ve been working and that you’ve stopped doing housework. You feel more invisible than ever. Toji watches as you put more stuff into the suitcase, at this point it’s overfilled with clothes. “I have two jobs, Toji. I wasn’t counting on you, I never was.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” Toji asks, and you chuckle but it soon turns into a fit of laughter. Toji crosses his arms and watches as you laugh your heart out, and he wonders what he said that causes such a reaction. A tear streams down your face and you wipe it away, calming down and taking a deep breath.

“We’ve had a month to talk about this, Toji. You just thought that throwing yourself at me would solve all of our problems.” You point out, and he bites his tongue. He ends up sighing, loosening the tie that’s tight around his neck. He takes a seat on your side of the bed, watching as you zip the suitcase close. “Believe it or not, sex doesn’t solve all problems– In fact, for our situation it doesn’t solve anything.”

“You wanted attention and I’m giving it to you.” It’s as simple as that, at least in his mind. You roll your eyes before looking through drawers to get stuff that you bought, items that belong to you and you’re taking to your new place. “I don’t know why you’re so complicated–”

“No, I’m simple! I want a divorce and you won’t give it to me.” You slightly raise your voice. You find a couple items and throw them on the bed before looking for another suitcase. You can’t believe just how complicated Toji is. You get another suitcase, but this one has a couple things in it. You open it and you find a couple CD cases, and you take them out. They don’t belong to you, you don’t have any CDs, so the only reasonable explanation is that they’re Toji’s. You put them aside, but you know you’ll be putting them into your laptop and playing the contents of it later. 

You walk back to the bedroom with the suitcase, and throw it on the bed. You begin to throw your stuff in it, and Toji can’t help but watch. He hears as his heart slowly breaks, he just didn’t think that you’d be doing this. You sleep next to him without a problem, and you have no problem giving in to his touch. The first night you told him you still wanted a divorce, but you stayed with him; you still kissed him back, you caressed him, you laughed at his awful jokes (granted not as hard as before). Toji really thought that he had you back, you just needed time.

“How about we… Tomorrow, will you give me a chance? Let’s go out.” Toji doesn’t know what to say. He’s realizing that after you leave, it’ll be hard to see you again. Nothing is tying you down. You’re ignoring him, your eyes focused on organizing the items in the suitcase, something that you didn’t care to do for your clothes. “Just– I promise that I’ll sign the divorce papers without a problem if after tomorrow–”

“Fine. Let’s go out.” You say but you continue packing everything away because you know it’s not going to work. Nothing Toji can do will make you change your mind. 

Tossing and turning in your bed leads you to look again for the CDs that you had put aside earlier. You had forgotten about them since your mind was preoccupied with what Toji has planned for tomorrow– Or today since it is past midnight. Toji’s snoring so you’re not too worried about him hearing you get out of the bed, get the CDs, get the laptop, and then go to the living room.

You put the first CD in, the one that has the oldest date. You wait a while for it to boot up, but when it does, you hate the video immediately. His late wife, Toji’s, appears on the screen and she’s so strikingly beautiful; it’s not because of her, she’s a woman that you respect and admire. What you hate is how you see Toji. So happy about the fact that he’s married. Your chest feels heavy and for some reason tears well up in your eyes.

Toji wasn’t this happy when he was getting married to you. You were like her, over the moon and smiling during every minute of the event… Toji on the other hand wasn’t like he’s in this video. He looks so genuinely happy, and so in love with her. You doubt he’s ever looked at you like he looks at her.

You have to skip forward because you take heavy breaths to keep yourself calm. You pause right at Toji’s toast, and while you know that you should skip forward because what he’ll say will shatter you, you keep the video playing. You’re not a woman that usually gets jealous, the fact that you stayed with Toji after his betrayal is telling of that aspect, but when he opens his mouth your hands are shaking. Your whole body shakes due to the immense jealousy that runs through your veins. You have to try your best to hold back your tears when he calls her his soulmate and the love of his life. What really sticks with you is:

I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s everything to me.

You have to take out the disk because there’s tears running down your face. You’re not mad because he loved someone else, you’re frustrated because he never grew to love you like he loved her. Matter of fact, you’re not sure if Toji even loves you even when he’s been trying to assure you of it lately. You put in the other disk because you just want to know the contents of it. You take a deep breath as you wait for the video to start.

“Is this working?” Toji’s eye is right on the camera, and you chuckle as you watch your husband try to figure out how to work the camera. He finally adjusts the camera and you get to see him, and her as well. She has a cute baby bump and you smile. She sounds so sweet,

“We’re so excited to meet you, baby.” And Toji wraps her arms around her, his hands landing on her baby bump. “What name did you choose again?”

“Megumi. He’s our little blessing.” It’s cute, it’s really cute. It’s so nice to see Toji smile like an idiot, and look how he looks so lovingly at his beloved. He’s so excited to be a father too… The same Toji that told you he didn’t want kids, that in order to get married you had to accept the fact that you wouldn’t have children. He just simply didn’t want them, no other reasoning than that. You wanted kids but you accepted it. Being a mother is something that you’ve always wanted but for Toji you were willing to give that up; additionally, you had Megumi as a stepson and that was sort of enough even when you weren’t supposed to act like his mother.

You’re bawling your eyes out for the rest of the video, even when you’re supposed to smile. Toji kissing his wife’s belly, blushing as she brushes his hair with her fingers. He talks to the baby and is as sweet as ever with her, and you’re comparing yourself to her. You’re wondering why you aren’t enough, why can’t Toji love you? He would never treat you like he treated her, and you don’t mind not being treated the same but Toji doesn’t even try. You’re just an afterthought. 

The video ends and you take the disk out again, and you put in the last one. You take a deep breath, wiping away the tears. You knew Toji had a whole life behind you, you shouldn’t care. You’re separating anyway. You laugh seeing a tiny baby Megumi, really nothing like the angsty teen that he is today. A chubby baby, who’s so sleepy. 

Toji looks so happy as he holds his son. Over the moon with his baby, and you begin to wonder why Toji doesn’t want kids. Maybe he just wants one woman to be the mother of his kids but since she’s no longer in this world, he doesn’t want to have more. There’s so many cute moments, mostly focused on Megumi. When he learned how to talk, calling Toji dada, and it’s so visible how happy Toji was. Watching as Megumi learned how to walk, you realized something: you’re not willing to give up having a baby for a man that doesn’t love you. You want your own family, one where you’re loved.

You’re tired of not being loved enough, and it causes your heart to ache. A sob leaves your lips and you’re about to shut the laptop when you hear him ask, “Why are you watching that? It’s three in the morning.”

You turn to look at him, the bit of light coming from the laptop illuminates your tears. You want to ask him why you’re not enough, why he chose to marry you, why he doesn’t love you, why he insists on you staying, why he chose you. There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not able to ask him anything though.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks, and you end up nodding in response, wiping away your tears. And he might not want to be a father again but he’s willing to do it all over again if it means that you’ll stay. “We can have one.”

“We’re getting a divorce, Toji.” You remind him before shutting off the laptop. You stand up from the couch and walk back to the bedroom. He walks behind you since he stood up because you weren’t by his side. He has to get used to it though, you’re leaving soon.

“When are you moving out?” He asks.

“In two days.”

Toji makes sure you dress appropriately for your date. It’s supposed to be a surprise, and you’re not exactly too excited to go out with him. No matter what, you’re leaving. You’ve been saving up for this. For the first time, Toji is actually worried that you’re going to be late and he rushes you to leave.

You wonder what you’ll be doing since he’s in such a rush. And then you get to the movie theater. When you’re in the parking lot, you ask, “What movie are we going to watch? The new dolls ones?”

“It’s a surprise.” He responds, turning off the car. He gets out and he rushes to open the door for you but he never does that for you so he can’t do the chilvarious act since you’re already out of the car. He throws his arm over your shoulder as you walk to the entrance. You’re going up to the ticket booth to get the tickets, but Toji has a different idea. He waves at the worker as if they know each other, and you two walk inside the movie theater. “Do you want anything?”

“I guess… A small popcorn.” You’re unsure. Toji never buys anything from the movie theater during the rare occurrence he actually goes. He walks away to get the popcorn while you patiently wait, looking around. You’ll be moving out tomorrow, and that’s the only thought that runs through your mind when you look at him. It makes you want to cry… It’s for your own good, yet you don’t want to go.

“Let’s go.” There’s a small smile on his face when he’s walking over to you. You’re not sure where you’re supposed to go since you don’t have any movie tickets so you have no option but to follow him. You get to an empty auditorium, and he tells you, “Choose where you want to sit.”

You do get excited, even though you told yourself you weren’t going to get excited over anything during this date. You walk to the very top, and he follows you. You begin to munch on your popcorn while watching the previews, and you can’t help but ask, “What movie are we watching?’

“It’s a surprise.” He responds. You try to think of all the movies that are currently being shown, however, none sound interesting enough to draw Toji in. You won’t push it though, you don’t care. You’ll stick around for one bad movie if it means that Toji will finally sign the divorce papers. 

You finish eating the small bucket of popcorn before the movie actually begins, and when Toji notices, he’s kind enough to take it from your hands and stand up. Before he leaves though you request, “Could you get me a drink? And some candy?”

“Of course, honey.” He says before walking away. You’ll take advantage of this since you’re leaving soon. Your eyes then go to the screen to look at the previews. You know they’re ending and the theater is deserted which makes you assume that it’s an unpopular movie. You don’t care all that much about it, you’re just hoping that Toji will come back before it starts because you aren’t all that great with summaries.

When it does start, he’s still gone. You make sure to pay attention so you’ll be able to explain at the best of your ability. You begin to realize how familiar this movie feels– You try to recollect your thoughts, trying to remember all the movies you’ve watched and then it hits you. You watched this movie years ago with Toji during your first official date.

You’re overflowing with emotions lately. Maybe it’s because a divorce isn’t an easy process, especially when Toji wants you to stay and you love him so much. You’re tearing up watching the beginning of the movie, and your glossy eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t realize Toji has come back with everything you’ve asked and more.

“Everything okay?” He asks, and you nod in response. You smile at him.

“You remember.” You say as you take the popcorn and drink from him, allowing him to keep the other stuff.

“Of course I do.” He responds. Years ago you came to watch a movie but instead, you did anything but watch the movie. In your defense, you tried to but it wasn’t all that entertaining especially when you had Toji next to you. Your heart softens as you realize that he did this for you.

“How much did this cost?” You question, feeling bad because you know what’ll happen next. His efforts are in vain.

“Not much.” He tries to play it off. Toji isn’t a man that saves up a lot of money, and while this didn’t cost a lot, it costed the little amount of money Toji had saved up. 

The scene is about to play out like it did in the first time. He cups your face and pecks your lips, “Any price is worth it when it comes to you.”

It’s not much effort either, but his words and his actions are making you reconsider even when you had set your mind to leaving. But then you remember how happy he was in those videos, how he called her his soulmate. Toji can’t do that with you, at least he hasn’t in the five years that you’ve been together, and you doubt that he will if you stay. If you decide to stay, it’ll take a week for Toji to go back to being himself. And while he offered to start a family with you, you know it won’t end well.

“Toji…” You begin, your voice nearly breaking. You slowly blink, trying to hold back your tears. He knows what’s coming as he stares at your face.

“If this is about having kids, I told you I’d have one with you.” He reminds you. You take a deep breath, trying to gather all the words you need.

“But you don’t want one. We’re not having a kid to try and save this marriage. That’ll just end up horrible. You won’t love my baby and I’ll have to raise them by myself.” You point out. “Toji… All I want is for someone to love me, and have my own family. You once had that and… You know how it feels. I want to start over with someone else as fast as I can.”

You have to look away because just looking at Toji makes you want to burst into tears. Your heart holds so much sadness, and the last person you want it to unfold with is Toji.

“I know you don’t know how it feels like to be unloved by someone you hold dear to your heart, but let me tell you, it fucking sucks.” You try to chuckle as tears run down your face. You’re not sure why. Maybe you want to disguise your tears, but it’s a horrible cover up. “If I stay, everything will go back to how it usually is within a week. I just want to start over and not be a placeholder for anyone.”

“That’s not how this is, baby. I love you.” He tries to assure you but your mind just replays the video of how happy and in love he looked when he was with her. He’ll never look at you like that, and thinking about it breaks your heart. You deserve someone like that. 

You give him the popcorn before standing up. You weakly smile at him, and you’re about to mutter an apology to him but you end up biting your tongue. He doesn’t deserve one. He chose this. Out of the two of you, you’re the one deserving of an apology. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

You leave to go to the bathroom to fix your makeup and try to watch the movie. Maybe you’ll finally grasp the plot of this movie the second time around– You also really want that candy. You look in the mirror and try to smile at yourself. Your makeup isn’t all that bad, just tear stains ruining your foundation.

It hurts to see him try so hard but you wonder why he’s trying. You’re not the woman he loves, and the man also seems to not care for housework all that much because he hasn’t noticed how your apartment is a damn mess. Maybe Toji does love you… But you shake the thought out of your head because it’s ridiculous. 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you turn to see what looks like a teenage girl. You raise your eyebrows and she asks, “Do you have a pad or tampon I could use?”

“Uh… Yeah.” You search in your purse for the pad that you keep in case of emergencies, and when you find it, you hand it to her. She thanks you before going into one of the stalls, and you focus on finishing up your makeup.

You freeze, the brush in your hand falling into the sink when you realize something that’s so very important.

You’re late.

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please. 

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 

Maybe you were overthinking it. 

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up. 

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 

~~

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 

Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 

Instead, you responded calmly. 

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. 

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 

“Please?” 

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[shortnspidey]

CHAPTER ONE: ECHOS OF THE PAST

bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader || WC: 3.7K

A/N: In honor of Sebastian getting his first Golden Globe (which was long overdue), I present to you all the first chapter for this series! Thank you for all the love on this series before it was even published! This first chapter is really angsty, BUT there is certainly more to come! Dividers by @sister-lucifer <3

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The familiar hum of New York City quickly faded as you stepped into the quiet sanctuary of your apartment. It was a stark contrast to the bustling campus of MIT, a place that had once held so much promise. The weight of the past few months hung heavy on your shoulders as you let out a long, weary sigh. You had returned home, defeated and disillusioned.

The keys in your right hand felt heavy, almost like an invisible weight was pushing you down. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disappointment and frustration. The sense of relief from being back home was met with the bitter taste of unmet expectations. You had dreamed of making a mark, of proving to yourself and to everyone else that you belonged at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world.

Instead, you found yourself constantly questioning your place, your purpose, and your abilities. As you finally turned the key and stepped inside, the familiar surroundings offered a small comfort. However, that relief was short lived. What you didn't expect was to see your father, in the flesh, sitting in your living room. His presence felt like an additional weight on your already burdened shoulders, amplifying the emotions swirling inside you.

Choosing to ignore him, you walked past the living room and into your room. You could bet that he would be following close behind you not even a second later. Sure enough, as you settled to unpack the little clothes that lay in your suitcase, you heard his footsteps approaching. "F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were back in New York," The stern voice of Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist or as you knew him, your father, interrupted behind you.

Letting out a sigh, you could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of him from your doorway. "Which I find very odd since it's nowhere near your winter break." You avoided eye contact as you fiddled with the items on your desk. "Funny enough, I gave a lecture at MIT and to my surprise my daughter was nowhere to be found. Especially since the academic advisor stopped me to inform me you haven't been attending classes for almost a month." God you wished he'd just get right to the point.

"Care to explain?" Not bothering to hide the nonchalance in your voice, you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Dropped out." The tension in the room was palpable, his silence spoke volumes, a mixture of disbelief and frustration hanging in the air. "Dropped out? What do you mean, you dropped out? You were doing so well." You could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took to keep his emotions in check. “MIT was your dream, not mine.” His eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of hurt cross his face.

You almost felt bad. Almost. "But you had everything going for you," He insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you with what you could only assume was utter disappointment. "The scholarships, internships, the many opportunities they offered… Why would you throw all that away?" You sighed, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "Because it wasn't making me happy," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I finally realized that I was living someone else's dream, not mine."

You had finally admitted it.

As you finally mustered the courage to confront him, a bruise blooming on his right eye suddenly stole your attention. The conversation about MIT, now seemed like the last thing on your mind. After what seemed like an eternity, you tried to gauge his expression, but came up short. "Well in that case," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're grounded." Clenching your jaw you scoffed in disdain. "What the hell do you mean I'm grounded?" You spat, crossing you arms over your chest. "I don't think I stuttered." Tony rolled his eyes which only fueled your anger.

"I'm not five dad, I'm almost twenty-five, you can't ground me." You growled, digging your freshly manicured nails into your palm in frustration. "As your father, I believe that is one of the many privileges I still hold. You're clearly not thinking straight. You need time to reflect on your choices and figure out what you truly want." He looked at you with a mixture of worry and disappointment, his eyes searching for a way to reach you. "This isn't about punishment, it's about helping you." The more he talked, the angrier you became.

Of course, he was making this about him, as he somehow always seemed to do. Completely disregarding what you wanted, he continued to impose his will. The familiar feeling of being trapped under his expectations washed over you, instantly making your blood boil. "Helping me?" You echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You do realize that I just confessed that I don't want to go back to MIT, and instead of asking me why, you ground me instead. Real mature." You could feel the tears of frustration welling up, but you refused to let them fall.

You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had affected you. This was your life, your decision, and you were growing tired of being treated like a child. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, the words spilling out before you could find will to stop them. "You don't get it, do you? It's like you only hear what you want to hear. I’m not some kid who needs to be sheltered from the world. I need you to listen for once!" His expression hardened, and you could see the frustration creeping into his demeanor.

Taking his silence as a sign to continue, you pushed back your nerves and tears, and decided a different approach to somehow get your point across. "Can’t you see that I’m trying to figure things out on my own? Grounding me isn’t going to help me in any way." He sighed, and you could tell he was struggling to find the right words. Tony Stark may be the smartest and most successful man in the world, but he sure as hell didn't know how to express himself. In words, at least. "I just want what’s best for you," His voice softer now, was almost pleading.

It almost made you feel bad for yelling. "Then try trusting me for once," Your voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation. "I'm tired of people not knowing my name, and only knowing me as 'Tony Stark's daughter'. You have to understand that, dad." The silence hung heavy between you, both of you staring at each other, the weight of unspoken words filling the room. You could feel the tension shifting, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he finally understood. After a pregnant pause, he suddenly found the words, just not the ones you were expecting.

"Well, I'm off, there's cheeseburgers in the kitchen." The casualness in his voice, as if the conversation hadn't happened made your frustration and anger resurface. "Just like that you're leaving," You scoffed in disbelief, but never the less expected it. This was typical of him, avoiding the deeper issues with a quick exit. "You really think cheeseburgers is going to make up for this?" You added, hoping for once in his life he was joking. Oh how wrong you were. “Settle in, watch movies, but do not leave this apartment under any circumstances.” He instructed, his tone firm as he moved toward the door.

"And if I leave?" You challenged, standing your ground as his hand hovered over the front door knob. He paused, his back to you. "Just remember I have eyes everywhere," Without so much as a final glance in your direction, he shut the door behind him. The thud echoed through the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As if on cue, your phone which laid abandoned in your bedroom went off startling you. Looking at the door one last time, you let out a huff, the frustration and disappointment evident in your breath. It was clear your father wasn't coming back.

With a resigned sigh, you turned and made your way to your bedroom. As soon as you picked up your phone, your heart dropped. Notifications filled the screen, each one more alarming than the last. You had been tagged in numerous social media posts, not to mention the messages from colleagues and acquaintances at MIT. Even Pepper had sent you a text regarding something called the Sokovia Accords. Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through the posts, the images and videos of chaos and destruction filling the screen. Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened while you were unaware.

Among the thread of messages, Pepper's stood out the most. "We need to talk. This is serious. Call me as soon as you can," it read. You could almost hear the urgency in her voice, and it made your stomach churn. You quickly dialed her number, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for her to pick up. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Hey sweetheart, are you okay?" She asked, her voice filled with concern. "I don't know," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What even are the Sokovia Accords?" You heard Pepper sighed on the other end of the line.

"It's a long story, but to put it in the simplest terms, it's a set of legal documents that will regulate the activities of enhanced individuals." You felt a cold chill run down your spine as Pepper explained the implications. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "Just be careful, okay?" You nodded even if she couldn't see you. "I will, I love you." As she echoed those words back, you hung up. The world seemed to be against you today, because not even seconds after you set your phone down, there was a knock present at your door.

It made your heart drop, especially since no one knew you were back in New York. Slowly, you reached for the knife hidden by your bedside table, adrenaline coursing through your body as you slowly inched toward the front door. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Peering through the peephole, you saw a shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold, their features obscured by the dim hallway light. With your hand gripping the knife tightly, you cautiously unlocked the door, ready to defend yourself if necessary.

As the door creaked open, the figure stepped forward into the light, revealing a familiar face. "Uncle Clint," You breathed out immediately tackling the man in a hug. He instantly reciprocated, tightening his hold on you. “You ready to get the hell out of here, kid?” You couldn’t contain your smile, immediately nodding. Not needing anything else but your phone and keys, you locked your door following Clint down the steps. "Where are we going?" You asked, your curiosity piqued. "Germany," He replied nonchalantly making you stiffen momentarily.

Turning back as if sensing your unease, he gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm assuming you've heard the news about the Accords." You nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of his van as he unlocked it. "We just have to make a quick pitstop first." As you settled into the seat and the van roared to life, your thoughts instantly started racing. "What's the pitstop for?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Clint glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just picking up some... backup," He said cryptically as the sense of anticipation grew as you wondered what lay ahead.

Arriving in Germany at the Leipzig-Halle Airport, it was safe to say you were a nervous wreck. Especially since the 'backup' Clint had meant was breaking Wanda Maximoff out of the Avengers Compound and picking up someone named Scott Lang. Thankfully, the witch had promised to stay out of your head so she couldn't read your inner turmoil. However, just by your body language, anyone could tell you were not 'okay'. "You okay, kid?" Clint's voice asked softly, his paternal instincts kicking in.

You managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just… thinking." The van's engine hummed softly as it entered the airport car garage, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the concrete walls. Clint raised a brow in your direction as the van entered the airport car garage, his eyes searching yours. "About what?" You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "Everything," You finally admitted. "The Accords, my dad…" Clint nodded understandingly. "Yeah, it's a lot to take in." He paused, then added, "You don't have to do this, you know. You can still walk away." His words echoed in your head.

He was right, there was nothing stopping you from walking away, especially since your father was in support of the Accords. However, something about how he was willing to start a divide within his closest friends made you angry. Maybe it was because he had failed to hear you out, just as he had failed to hear Steve’s side of the argument. The memory of your father’s dismissive tone and the way he brushed off your concerns played over and over in your mind, fueling your decision. It was safe to say you had already made up your mind.

Turning in your seat, you gave Clint a smirk, a spark of defiance lighting up your eyes. "No chance in hell." His smile widened at your words, and he reached over to squeeze your hand. The van came to a sudden halt, jolting you slightly. Only then did you realize that Steve Rogers was a few feet away, his broad shoulders and familiar stance unmistakable. He had his back turned to you, deep in conversation with two other figures. "Does Steve know I'm here?" You asked, a mix of anticipation and apprehension threading through your voice.

"He does now," Clint shrugged, his tone casual but reassuring. "Here goes nothing" You mumbled to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice," You heard Steve say to Clint as he extended his hand in a firm handshake. His voice was steady, but you could detect the underlying strain. Only then did his blue eyes find yours over Clint's shoulder. They widened slightly, a mix of surprise and relief washing over his features. "Y/N?" Steve breathed out, almost as if trying to decipher if you were real or not.

You lifted your hand in an awkward wave, finding the courage to step forward. Only, the super solider beat you to it. In two strides he was at your side, scooping you up into a much needed hug. His embrace was strong and warm, enveloping you in a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long time. You squeezed him back just as eagerly, hoping that through the hug you could tell him you were on his side. "It's so good to see you," He murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I just wish it was under different circumstances." You nodded, pulling back your eyes searching his face for any signs of the unease you knew he must be feeling.

"You know I've always got your back." You smiled, giving him a mock salute which made him laugh. "Nice to see you again, kid." You turned locking eyes with Sam Wilson who was giving you a teasing smile. "Hi Sam." You grinned, eyes landing on the figure standing beside him. Dressed in a red Henley, his posture was rigid, and his expression was guarded. "Y/N, this is Bucky." Steve introduced him, almost as if reading your mind. Bucky's intense gaze met yours, and for a moment, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

His eyes were a stormy blue, filled with a depth of experiences that seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there was something about him that intrigued you, a vulnerability that was almost palpable. Here it comes. Bucky thought to himself watching as your eyes flickered with recognition. "You're Sergeant James Barnes," You couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and empathy for the man standing before you. Bucky nodded slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. "Just Bucky," He corrected gently, as if trying to distance himself from the past that still clung to him.

You offered a small, understanding smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Bucky. I've heard a lot about you." You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch into a faint smile, almost as if for a brief moment the walls he had built around himself seemed to lower. Steve cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Thanks for having my back." He nodded towards Wanda who stood behind you with her arms crossed. "It was time to get off my ass." Her expression was one of casual indifference, but her eyes held a spark of determination. "It was time to get off my ass," She shrugged nonchalantly, her tone light but her commitment evident.

The corner of your mouth lifted into a smile at her straightforwardness. "How about our other recruit?" Steve questioned, turning his attention to Clint. His eyes met Steve's with a knowing look, and he gave a slight nod, signaling his readiness. "He's ready to go," He coaxed turning to open the sliding door of the van. "I had to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good." As Scott slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, Wanda stepped in front of you, her stance protective, almost as if shielding you from his gaze. "What time zone is this?" You heard him huff, his voice gravelly and tinged with sleep as he climbed out of the van with Clint's encouragement.

You watched as his eyes widened when they landed on Steve, almost as if not believing Captain America himself was standing in front of him. His expression shifted from confusion to awe, his mouth slightly agape. "C-Captain America," He breathed out, the words barely more than a whisper. "Mr. Lang." Steve nodded politely, extending his hand out for him to shake. The gesture was calm and composed, a stark contrast to Scott's jittery excitement. "It's an honor," Scott beamed, his face lighting up with a wide grin as he proceeded to shake Steve’s hand longer than was deemed normal.

"Wow, this is awesome," You heard him mumble to himself. The awe in his voice was infectious, and you had to stifle a laugh as Steve and Sam shared a knowing look. "I know you too, you're great," He praised, turning to Wanda with an earnest smile. You saw her eyes light up, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she acknowledged his compliment. "Y/N Stark," His attention now shifted to you. "I'm a huge fan, your Mind-Weaver pitch was compelling. Should help a lot of people too." His words were sincere, and you could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes.

That was the first time you had heard someone acknowledge you as well as your work outside of being Tony Stark's daughter. It was a refreshing change, and you had to admit it felt good. A sense of pride swelled within you, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. Turning back to Steve, Scott nervously fiddled with his hands, his fingers twitching as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Uh, look, I want to say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thanks for thinking of me." He smiled appreciatively. "They tell you what we're up against?" Steve asked, his voice steady and calm.

"Something about some psycho assassins," Scott replied, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. Steve nodded, his expression grim. "We're outside the law on this one, so if you come with us you're a wanted man," Steve warned, his eyes locking onto Scott's, ensuring he understood the full implications of joining their cause. "Yeah well, what else is new," Scott shrugged. "We should get moving." Bucky suggested, speaking up for the first time in a while. His voice was low but carried a sense of urgency. Clint nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the room as if already planning their next move.

"Thanks to Y/N's help, we got a chopper lined up," He added, acknowledging the crucial role you played. Suddenly, a buzz emitted from the intercom, sharp and insistent, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. It sounded urgent. "They're evacuating the airport." Bucky translated, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Dad," You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You picked at your nail polish, trying to distract yourself from the anxiety that was building up inside you, avoiding everyone's piercing gaze that seemed to bore into you, seeking answers.

After a moment of heavy silence, Steve seemed to mull over his options, his jaw clenched tightly. The tension in the room was almost palpable, each second stretching into an eternity. Finally, he made his decision. "Suit up," He commanded, his voice firm and resolute. You held your breath, suddenly feeling the realness of the situation wash over you like a cold wave. The gravity of what lay ahead settled in, and the room seemed to shrink as your heart pounded in your chest. This was it. You were officially going to face your dad in what very well might be the endgame.

[powerfultenderness]

lord powerfultenderness, I don't know how to fully picture it but can we have neighbor könig doing grocery shopping with y/n? Please!~

I swear I saw a post somewhere that said König probably makes bank. And Sugar Daddy König hc born/accepted. This man will spoil you if you give him the chance (and then idk wreck you later?)

Either you were oblivious to the looks strangers gave you, to the way women quickly turned around and went down different aisles, or you didn’t care. It was, in fact, the latter. This big menacing looking guy beside you practically cleared a path wherever you wanted. Busy aisles you’d normally have to do trick maneuvers with your cart? Cleared out when he looked at other shoppers. It was amazing, really.

You stopped and looked up at the shelf, the item you wanted on the very top and if you stretched out…you still couldn’t reach it. Even before you could pout and try again, König reached over and plucked the box of snacks off the shelf and dropped in the basket. 

Maybe it was the way his eyes crinkled a bit, but you could tell he was smiling at you. “Those are car snacks.” 

“Car snacks?”

You nodded and continued to push the cart down the aisle. You’d deviated from your shopping list so much that you were now just going up and down aisles to see if there was anything you needed.

“You know, snacks you keep in the car for emergencies. Like, getting stuck in traffic, or on the side of the road while waiting for a tow truck…or lost…” 

“How often do you get lost?” He laughed, shoulders shaking as he tried to keep his laugh at a reasonable indoor level.

“It was just the one time! My GPS wasn’t working!” It wasn’t your fault downtown was an impossible maze!

“What did you do?” 

“I had a snack and figured it out.” You gave up and went home, but he didn’t need to know that. 

Though he could probably guess with the way he was side eyeing you. You knocked your hip into his side (and he didn’t budge at all!) “What do you say to pasta for dinner?” 

He titled his head, “you’re making dinner for me?”

“Yea, I want to do something nice for you for helping me out.” 

König beamed at you, though you couldn’t see behind his mask and you were currently looking at one of the shelves. “I will eat whatever you cook.”

You laughed, it sounded so weird when he said it like that. “Alright, pasta it is.” 

On the way to the checkout, you happened upon a display of clothing, mostly blouses and tee shirts, but some printed leggings as well. “Ooh, that’s cute.” You stopped and picked up a strappy sundress printed with your favorite flowers. “And my size!” You cheered to yourself as you looked at the tag. You flipped it over to check the price tag then set the dress back on the rack. “Pssh, not that cute.” 

You looked at him just as he turned away from the dress you liked. “Hey, can you wait in line while I run and get my prescription?” 

He nodded and took over pushing the cart as you handed him your debit card, “just in case it takes too long.” 

It was a good thing you handed him your card too! There was a bit of wait while your prescription was transferred to the new in store pharmacy. You half debated whether or not you should just leave to pick it up another day, but you already missed a day and didn’t want to throw off the effects. 

By the time you had your medication, König was waiting for you out front. “Sorry about that!” 

He shook his head, “no problem.” And handed you the receipt and your card back. 

You giggled as he loaded the bags in almost one scoop into the back of his truck. Your car was currently in the shop and he very quickly offered to help you out in the meantime. 

“Thank you so much!” You smiled at him once all of the groceries were sitting on your counter. 

“Anytime.” He answered simply.

 “Still up for dinner tonight?” 

He nodded, “of course.” 

The little short answers, no hearty laugh included, were weird. But maybe he just had enough company for a few hours. “Alright, I’ll pop over later then?” 

“Goodbye.” He nodded again and quickly left you alone.

Weird…

Whatever. Maybe he’ll feel better once he…oh! 

You pulled out one of the very dresses you thought was cute, but too expensive, from one of the bags. König’s doing? You checked the receipt and it wasn’t listed. He…bought it himself? And hid it from you? Suddenly the way he was acting nervous before he left made sense. 

-

König’s stomach flipped and his face burned when he opened the door later that night. You were standing in front of him wearing the dress he bought. “You look like an angel.” 

You smiled and spun around, the dress flaring cutely as you did so. “I can’t believe you bought this! Thank you so much! But, let me repay you?” 

“No. Have dinner with me?” 

You giggled, you were already having dinner with him! “You sneaky man! Come on, let’s go!” You then grabbed one of his hands and started to pull him out and towards your flat.

“Wait. Let me lock up.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and locked the door with one hand, refusing to pull out of your touch. 

“Oh. right!” 

“You didn’t lock up, did you?” 

“What! It’s just right there!”   

König was laughing again as he followed you to your home, a dopey smile you couldn’t see lighting his eyes 

[More neighbor König]

[daddydomjayjay99]

ATTENTION SISSY DIAPER FAGGOTS

If you can meet these simple criteria! Message me and we’ll see if we can’t destroy your masculinity too! Understand however this is a commitment! Im not interested in babies who use me to talk dirty too, get their rocks off and ghost! If im dominating you this is a commitment to produce what daddy demands. Im looking for a plaything that wants to be humiliated, regress, demoralised, pushed to do uncomfortable things and who can commit and follow my orders over a long period of time. Approach me diaper faggots, submit and i’ll make your sissy baby girl dreams come true!

Criteria-

1. Firstly I’m sorry but I’ve simply got no attraction too babies who are overweight, I get far more enjoyment out of skinny or slightly curvy faggots being feminised. However that said if you are slightly larger and agree to go on a strict workout and diet plan to make your body more effeminate then we can work with that.

2. You live alone! Its not a dealbreaker if you don’t but I prefer it because i will as a minimum want you caged and diapered when in your own home. The aim is that as a minimum i will operate a doorstep setup where in you will as an absolute minimum be MY sissy diaper fag while in your home and when you leave to go to work or other commitments then you may be a “man” again.

3. THERE ARE NO TRIBUTE FEES OR DEMANDS OF PAYMENT TO ME!!!! With that said, I don’t want payed by you but what i will do is ask you to buy or save up to by sissy baby faggot items or clothing which i want to see you in. In the event your a good faggot and do as your told then Daddy is not apposed to buying you little treats.

4. You understand that daily communication with Daddy is non negotiable, you must always see too it when Daddy messages you answer within 12 hours. You will not ghost or go on communication blackouts of any kind.

5. You understand that Daddy’s word on anything is right, is law, you will endeavour to do everything exactly how daddy says and you’ll consider daddy’s opinion when making any big decisions yourself.

6. Now this one seems odd but please, only cisgender males approach. I have nothing against transgirl sissies i just personally dont feel comfortable degrading or humiliating them about being failures as men and giving the usually sissy humiliation tasks to someone who’s genuinely not comfortable in their own skin and is changing gender. Its less of a you thing and more of a me thing on that one.

What will be expected of you:

1. You will at an absolute bare minimum be expected to wear chastity 24/7 and diapers at any time when you are not at work.

2. You will present as a juvenile, girly, effeminate, dress wearing, diaper using, juvenile activity doing sissy from the moment you enter your home till the moment you leave.

3. Over time i will force you to take on more effeminate characteristics to further destroy your masculinity such as growing out your hair, getting ear piercings, growing your nails, shaving ALL body hair from the nose down, painting your nails, perhaps dyeing your hair. Should you be committed enough you will eventually be forced to use a breast enlargement pump and perhaps even oestrogen.

4. You will fill your closet with sissy and sissy baby clothing of which i approve and over time will throw out male clothing you wear at home.

5. You will be given task which require time to be taken daily to learn new skills which are vital too a sissy like you such as makeup tutorials and hair styling tutorials.

6. You will also accept that you will be unpotty training yourself at night so that you are diaper dependent at bed time. I want you to wake every morning to the humiliating feeling of a full diaper.

[star-suh]

Fighting in The Streets, Fucking in The Sheets

Lee Juyeon x Male Reader

cw: college au, top juyeon, enemies to lovers prompt, kinda fluffy sex, fluff at the end, fingering, blowjob, spit as lube, unprotected sex, creampie.

an: decided to stop using the / in yn bcs it's so annoying and i'm lazy.

—

yn is one of the best student of class A, he is one of those feisty nerds who is not afraid to stand up against someone who is bothering him.

on the other side there's lee juyeon, the polar opposite. he is a lazy person who doesn't do anything in class, he just sits in the back to do nothing with his friends, he is not a bully but if he has to confront someone he will do it.

“ok class silence” shouted the teacher "today i’m going to assign you a homework and it would be in pairs, and no juyeon you can go back to your seat, i'm the one choosing them" she said with a devilish smile while juyeon went back to his seat silently.

“... and finally lee juyeon with ln yn”, “please no” yn shouted “anyone but that good-for-nothing, can i do it alone please?", "good-for-nothing? who are you calling a good-for-nothing son of a bit-".

“well, both of you, shut up” the teacher cut juyeon's speech “i don't care if you can't stand each other's asses, but i'm waiting for that homework on my desk the other week, did you hear?" she said sternly.

“hey loser, your house or mine?” asked juyeon while chewing gum, “mine of course i don't want to put my feet on your pigsty house” said y/n laughing at the other's red angry face. “this bitch” juyeon spit out his chewing gum towards the other male and then grabbed him by his collar and cornered him towards a wall. "listen to me, you idiot, i'm not interested in doing a homework with you either, but i don't want to lose the subject, so yes or yes, we have to do it." juyeon let go of yn and when he turned out to leave a hand smacked his head “you forgot your gum dumbass” a scandalous laugh left yn's mouth only to be silenced seconds later by juyeon's fist.

someone was knocking on the door and yn already had an idea who it was and despite he does not want to, he would have to receive him. he opened the door and there he was, juyeon with light scratches in his beautiful face "ugh you look like shit" yn says with a disgusted face. juyeon just looks at him with a frown "and you look like diarrhea. let me in".

the room was in an awkward silence, both avoided looking at themselves while they concentrated on finishing the task. yesterday after juyeon hit yn, the fight continued for a few moments. the nerd managed to leave some light bruises and scratches on juyeon's face but he was the most affected, his lower lip was split, he have a small bruise next to his eye and some scratches in his cheeks. 

yn accidentally hurts his lip from which blood begins to flow, juyeon is shocked by this and grabs the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the wound "you are doing a lot for a simple cut. it's not like my heart is going to burst out over there" yn murmurs. "can you shut up for once in your life?.. do you have anything to apply in your wound?" juyeon asks and yn just points to where the first aid kit is. 

“there, it's done” juyeon puts the items in the kit but still keeps staring at yn's lips. the tension begins to increase… until juyeon throws himself towards yn eating his mouth. at first he resisted but when after feeling the other's soft lips he simply let himself go and began to enjoy the sensation. “eager much?” joked yn, “hmm” said juyeon introducing his fingers on the other's mouth “make that mouth of yours useful”.

clothes were discarded very quickly, both were desperate for each other, finally being capable of breaking the tension that was being built up since god knows when. 

one by one each digit entered yn's hole, juyeon making a scissors motion to open the hole. "so tight for me" he laughed, showing that perfect smile to the feisty nerd. "i wonder what you taste like" and without any warning juyeon took yn's dick into his mouth, savoring the almost salty taste of his pre-cum “just as i imagined” he smacked his lips..

juyeon's tip is entering yn's hole “you're still so fucking tight relax a bit” growled the top, resting his forehead on yn's shoulder. “it's easy for you to say that you're not the one being wrecked right now” yn cried. with subtle movements juyeon started thrusting “for being a bully you're being very gentle” the words slurred out of yn's mouth. “i'm not a bully for you information” immediately after saying that, juyeon kissed the other boy to shut him up. “spit here” demanded juyeon and the other guy obeyed. juyeon then spits on that same hand, pulls out his cock and smears it with the saliva mixture, causing gushy and sloppy sounds when he introduces it again.

they were in a doggy style position now, juyeon's hands started to leave marks on yn's hips as he was squeezing him very hard due to his rough thrusts. “please harder” moaned yn “i need you… to feel you” at this point yn was admitting that he had already imagined doing this with juyeon and this didn't went unnoticed by the top who kissed the other's back and whispered “i need you too”.

the skin slapping sound was loud, juyeon slammed himself hard on yn's ass, his hands being marked on the ass cheeks in a bright red color. “i'm feeling so good. do you feel good too?” grunted the top. “yeah… yeah i do- so good i feel so goo-hngh…” moaned the bottom.

juyeon started to pull out and then slam his cock back in a few times until he began to feel that he was going to cum "shit i’m going to cum" he takes out his cock and begins to stroke his dick so fast looking for that delicious sensation "fuck–" he grunted spilling all his cum over yn's hole that opened and closed as if it wanted to eat the other's seed.

“shit nerd i came a lot” he said catching his breath, “now it's your turn, cum for me”. yn began to stroke his hard dick, hooded and teary eyes looking directly at juyeon's ones. the katter trying to help him to release spat on his tip and then sucked on his balls “come on, cum for me” seconds later the white liquid came out of the tip of his dick, staining the other's face with it, "yummy" said the other, sucking the sensitive dick until it was clean…

the following days the relationship between them improved, going from one of rivals to one of friends with benefits that slowly transformed into one of lovers. juyeon was playing a football game and when he scored a goal, he ran towards where the audience was, more exactly where yn was sitting. he took out a bouquet of flowers and a sign from god knows where that said 'yn do you want to be my boyfriend?' the entire audience screamed with excitement. the boy blushed and felt a bit embarrassed, however, he responded excited "yes, i really want to” he came down from the stands running towards the boy to give him a kiss full of love. 

[mrsriddles-blog]

Gasoline | T.R

Pairing: Slytherin fem reader x Tom Riddle

WC: 3.5k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, toxic relationship, manipulation, etc.

Summary: In which your naivety of Tom Riddle seems to come back to you later in life as a not-so-perfect marriage between you two, starts to fall apart.

Are you insane like me?

Been in pain like me?

Bought a  hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?

Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?

Would you use your water bill to dry the strain like me?

Being Tom Riddle’s wife was no easy task. In the beginning, back when the two of you were dating—the Slytherin prince and princess—you were naive. You never believed what everyone said around you about Tom. He never showed that side to you, no, not until you were trapped in a marriage with him. Of course you loved him still, but you also knew this wasn’t healthy. 

It began with him becoming more possessive over you. He had moments where he’d blow up, accusing you of flirting with his followers or trying to get unwanted attention by dressing like a “whore”. You’d eventually reign him in, but sometimes he would throw expensive bottles of liquor at the wall or grab you a bit too roughly. Then it was to the point you walked into your shared room to see him throwing your clothes in the fireplace as he didn’t approve of them, and he replaced them all with things he liked. 

That was a little over two decades ago when the two of you got married. Time never really played a part in your life anymore now that you and Tom were both immortal. But, now you were amongst the descendants of your old friends. Like Lucius Malfoy, a living and breathing carbon copy of your dear friend Abraxas Malfoy. You were talking with Narcissa, holding the baby boy of hers, your own stomach swollen with twins. 

“Madam.” Daisy, one of the house elves murmurs timidly from beside you.

“Yes?” You ask politely.

“Mr. Nott…he has left his son in a basket on the porch.” She says. 

You were quick to hand Draco to Narcissa before you jog towards your front door. The door was open and you could see the other house elves pushing the basket in. You grab the little boy from the basket and gently open the letter. 

“Love?” Tom asks, storming your way out of concern.

“Theodore said Laura died giving birth to their son…Theodore Alon Nott Jr. He has given us full custody to raise him as our own. He said he wouldn’t be able to give him a good life.” You explain with a frown as tears well in your eyes at the loss of your friend. 

Tom looks down at the baby boy in your arms, unknowingly rocking him back to sleep. He looks back at the basket and grabs out the file that contained these things. He heads to his office as you gently coo at the baby. 

You were already beginning your task of making a list of extra baby items you’ll need. For now, you were using one of the cots you had gotten for one of your boys’, but materials like that were simply replaceable in your mind. 

You get Theodore laid in a cot, standing there for several minutes just watching him as your own heart hurts for the boy. 

“I promise to give you a good life, Theo…and I promise to tell you all about your mummy one day, sweet boy.” You murmur before leaving to head to Tom’s office. 

“He won’t answer!” He shouts, thankfully you had managed to close the door.

“Is it so bad that we raise, Theodore? We are married…Theodore said he was already blaming the child for Laura’s death…he wants to provide a good life for him. So, he thought of us.” You say confused.

“Are you fucking insane? I have plans! You being pregnant wasn’t apart of the plan just yet! But, you couldn’t fucking wait! We don’t need another child! We aren’t a fucking orphanage!” He snaps, freezing up after his own words. 

You were quiet, your hands on your belly protectively. You didn’t know that he felt that way. You tried to convince yourself that he was happy, but now that he said what he’s said, you could see the fake smile he gave you. It makes sense as to why he stormed off to his office after. 

“Carry on with your plans then…do not ask for my help. I’ll play no part. Instead, I’ll focus on the children. Theodore is staying.” You say, your voice void of emotion.

He didn’t get another word in as you turned and left. You  couldn’t stay…no, you were about ready to cry. You manage to wobble up the stairs as you hear little whimpers from the nursery. You open the door to hear more little whimpers. You walk to the cot and frown as you see the little boy with tears, watery eyes, and those little whimpers leaving his lips.

“Oh goodness, you’re so quiet. Come here, sweet boy. All is going to be okay. Wow…you have your mumma’s eyes. In fact…you look just like your mumma. I’ll have to pull out the old picture books once you’re older.” You murmur to him as you sit in a rocking chair. 

There was two…one for you and one for Tom. You waved a hand, your magic making it move to the attic. You sigh, looking down at the child in your arms. 

Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?

Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?

Do the people whisper ‘bout you on the train like me?

Saying that you shouldn’t waste your pretty face like me?

“Mumma!” Mattheo yells, his tiny four year old body nearly knocking the breath out of you as he slams into you.

“Matty! What in the world?” You question.

Tom, who sat at the other end of the table in silence, looks up. You’ve hardly uttered a word to him since the night he blew up on you. He never apologized…you moved to another room. The marriage he fought tooth and nail for was falling to shambles because he wasn’t quite sure how to love. 

His eyes zone in on your left hand to notice you have taken the rings off. He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he tenses. 

“Theo tripped and got hurt! He can’t get up! We were just playing!” He exclaims.

“Stay here.” You say, standing as you hurry out the backdoor. 

Tom watches from the window as you break off into a sprint to where the boys always like to play: the garden. He tenses as a little hand nudges him. He looks back down at Mattheo who had walked to him.

“Are you the reason why mumma cries at night?” He asks.

“What?” Tom asks, genuinely confused.

“Mumma cries at night, looking at old pictures of you both. I asked mumma about it once and she said it was nothing and that she was just happy. But, those weren’t happy tears…I don’t like when mumma is sad. You need to fix it, mister.” Mattheo says seriously. 

“Dad…I’m your dad.” Tom says, not liking being called mister.

“I know…but I didn’t know if I could call you that.” He admits shyly. 

Tom frowns, realizing his own ego and drive was pushing his wife and children away. Sure, children were apart of the plan later in his life, but sometimes life doesn’t work the way you expect. He gets up and kneels in front of Mattheo. 

“You can call me dad, son…I know I’ve been distant…and I’m truly sorry about that, Matty.” He says.

“Okay…but, you can’t call me Matty. That’s mumma’s name for me.” He says.

You walk in with Theodore on your hip, his face buried in your neck as he whimpers. Tom was on the other side of her. You freeze seeing Tom in front of Mattheo.

“What are you doing?” You ask harshly, glaring at Tom. 

“Relax, mumma…I just wanted to talk to him.” Mattheo says. 

He runs over to you, hugging your leg. You gently rub his back before you glance back over at your husband who was still kneeled on the ground, looking at you. You turn away, walking upstairs to the boys’ room. You lie Theodore on his bed, gently tending to his ankle. 

You help the boys get washed up before you were helping Theodore down to dinner, the twins following behind you. 

“Is he okay?” Tom asks from where he sat. 

“He’s fine, just a sprain.” You murmur.

“I can perform a healing spell if you don’t mind.” He says.

“No. Those spells we learned in school can only fix minor injuries. It’s not meant for sprains and breaks, Tom.” You say.

“No, no…not one of those. It’s one of mine.” He says.

“Even more the reason as to why I’m saying no. He’ll be fine within a few days.” You say firmly. 

Tom quiets, nodding before focusing on his plate. He didn’t eat, he just kind of stared at it, lost in thoughts. The kids kept you lost in conversation as they told you crazy stories of their imagination. They were telling you of their adventures outside when Theodore got hurt. 

“I have a question.” Theodore says nervously. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask softly. 

“Can I call you mumma like Tom and Matt?” He asks.

“No! She’s my mumma!” Mattheo yells.

“Mattheo!” You and Tom scold at the same time.

You look at your husband in surprise who looks at you. You found yourself wondering what his sudden interest in your life—in your kids’ lives came from? Things hadn’t been the easiest the past few years. You faced constant whispering behind your back. You heard rumors of Tom having mistresses, some of those mistresses being with child, and the list goes on. 

“Mattheo, that wasn’t polite. It was rude and disrespectful. Theodore is our family. Apologize.” Tom says firmly, his son looking at him in surprise. 

“B-But…” Mattheo stutters before stopping as Tom raises his hand.

“No buts.” He says sternly.

“Mumma…” Mattheo trails.

“Listen to your father…he’s right…Theodore is our family. He’s always been a brother to both you and Tom. If he wants to call me mumma, he can…and I would still be your mumma, Matty. Nothing could ever do that. But, Theodore is a part of our family. You owe him an apology.” You say.

“I’m sorry, Teddy.” Mattheo whispers.

“It’s okay, Matt.” Theodore mumbles.

“Theo.” You say softly. 

“Hm.” He hums, pushing his food around on a plate.

“You can call me mumma if you wish. But, I want you to know that your biological mumma…she was a wonderful woman, one whom I will tell you about more in the future. She would’ve been a wonderful mumma. And she is always with you, watching over you. You know…your mumma loved the stars just like you. Next time you look at the stars, remember your mumma is the brightest star in the sky.” You say softly, your eyes stinging with tears as you remember your best friend. 

“I know, but I want you to be my mumma too.” He says, looking at you with big blue-green eyes that reminded you so much of Laura. 

You managed to get through the rest of the night with ease, putting the boys to bed before you went back downstairs to finish cleaning up.

“Can we talk?” Tom asks from where he stood in the doorway.

“Did you realize your head was so far up your ass that you were being an asshole?” You ask.

“I’ve realized that I’ve definitely been a bit of a twat. I apologize, love…dearly. I want to fix things…I want to be apart of our kids’ lives. I’ve put my plans before family for way too long.” He says.

“I’ve torn myself apart for years, trying to entertain the idea that maybe some sick, twisted part of you never meant those words. Then, I came to terms with the fact that maybe you are cruel and heartless. And now, after four years, you want to tell me that you are just now realizing this?” You ask.

“I’m sorry…I really am love…I miss us…you…and I want to be a part of our kids’ lives. I would get on my knees for you. I’d do anything…please, love.” He says.

And all the people say

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream

You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being

With your face all made up, living on a screen

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline

“So…you and Tom are renewing your vows.” Narcissa says, the two of you drinking tea as you watch the boys play. 

“Yes…I’ve grown tired of fighting the advances of his. For a while he was so sweet and loving. Now, he's controlling and domineering once more. I keep living in this dream that he’ll be this sweet, loving and gentle guy. He never is.” You say with a sigh.

Deep down, you knew he loved you so much. His ways were just warped and twisted…it was something you just had to grow use to. There was no changing Tom.

“Why not leave him?” She asks.

“I love him…but even if I did choose to leave him, it wouldn’t be possible. I am his. His wife. The mother of his children. His property. He’d track me down if I ever tried to leave, drag me back and I’d face a punishment for doing so.” You say. 

Narcissa frowns, understanding that explanation more than she wished. She could say the same about Lucius. She had nothing without him though and he knew that. He’d never let her take Draco from him. So, if staying with Lucius meant she could protect her sweet Draco and to give him the best life, then she will stay. 

“Can you believe they are six?” She asks, changing the subject. 

“No…it seems that time keeps moving and we just want to hold onto our boys.” You say, smiling sadly at the boys. 

Soon, you were tucking the boys into bed before heading to your bedroom. Tom was already laid in bed, turned away from you as you made your way to the bed. Once you were settled, you turned the lamp off and let a soft sigh out.

You awake only hours later, a cold sweat on your forehead as you trembled. You reached over to hold onto your husband only to find that he was gone. 

“You can’t ever leave me.” He whispers.

“Tom? This isn’t funny.” You say shakily, looking around the room before turning the lamp on and seeing he was nowhere.

I think there’s a flaw in my code

(Oh, ooh-oh, ooh-oh, oh)

These voices won’t leave me alone

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asks as you push your food around on your plate.

“Fine.” You mumble. 

You found yourself pulling Narcissa off to the garden later as the boys played together. She looked at you worriedly.

“Cissa…he’s toying with me. H-He’s in my dreams…he’s constantly watching me…I hear him when he isn’t in the room…it’s like he’s using spells.” You ramble.

“You use to be the most lively person I knew. A flame that danced so beautifully. Then Tom came along, swallowing you up as that flame could only come alive when he wanted. And he’s taken so much from you…driving you mad and silencing that fire in you…one I once admired about you.” She sighs, looking at you pitifully.

“Cissa! I’m not crazy…I’m serious…he’s playing mind games with me.” You say, looking at her in frustration.

“Right…” She mumbles.

It was a tense silence before she hurried away to grab Draco, insisting she forgot that she was helping Lucius with something. You sit on the ground, staring at the grass with a frown as Tom watched you from the window. He smiles, feeling victorious. 

Are you deranged like me?

Are you strange like me?

Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?

Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

Pointing fingers ‘cause you’ll never take the blame like me?

“My boys!” Your husband says, walking in. 

You cast your eyes to the floor, unable to look into his scarlet red eyes, nor to look at his distorted form. You feel his hand on your shoulder that squeezes you painfully. 

“Father.” Mattheo greets snarkily.

“Matty, please.” You plead softly. 

“Did I say you could speak, wife?” He asks cooly.

You clench your jaw hearing him groan in pain as he flies back against the wall. You stand slowly, turning to face him with a cold look.

“I am so tired of you telling me what I can and cannot do. I am so tired of you spinning your web of lies, sending our children out to do your dirty work, and trying to make me feel like I am crazy! I never should have forgiven you…you are incapable of change. I’ve had it!” You shout, lifting a hand as you began to chant the spell you created. 

He shouts, demanding you to stop, but you can’t. You focus on all that anger, all that sadness, and all those years of being belittled. You slowly set him down, looking at the man that stood before you. 

He was young once more, sharp features, those blue eyes you fell for, his curly black hair that was neatly styled…your Tom. The one before horcruxes and losing himself…just your Tom. 

“What did you do?” He asks slowly, looking at his hands. 

“I’ve given you chances time after time for centuries, but I’m tired of this nonsense. There is a side to you, one that is capable of love and care—a side my children deserve at least. You are mortal and I’ll piece your soul back together every single time you wish to tear it apart for immortality. Try to kill me or my children, I dare you, but we are immortal, a way that isn’t dark and twisted like yours. Until you can prove that you are a true leader…husband…and father, you’ll be taking a step down. Until then, I’m taking over.” You say coldly, glaring at the man that you despise yet love at the same time. 

“Y/n/n…love, don’t do this. Please. Make me immortal, I’ll prove myself as we go forth, but please do not ruin my plans.” He pleads.

“It’s always been about your plans and your work…well, not anymore. They are my plans and my work now.” You say, smiling sardonically at him before looking at the table of people. 

“Children, you’re dismissed.” You say.

“Momma…” Theodore says, standing up as he looks at you unsure before glancing at your husband.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Come here.” You murmur, opening your arms to him.

He steps into your embrace, melting into it as he always does, holding onto you as if it’s the last time he’ll ever hug you. You kiss his temple, waiting till he lets go. Then your twin boys launch themselves at you and hug you tightly, both trying to express their feelings through a hug. You kiss their heads before gently urging them to go with Theodore and the other children to the living room. 

And all the people say

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream

You’re part of a machine, you re not a human being

With your face all made up, living on a screen

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline

“Be a little less…haste, Matt. Just a flick of your wrist.” Tom says.

You watch your husband with admiration. He has proved to come a long way and was teaching your sons how to perform some of his personal spells. Spells that weren’t simple to cast.

“Good job, Theo!” He praises as Theodore prefects the spell.

You look over to your son, Tom kicking at some rocks on the ground. He’s had a hard time with accepting his father back in. He was so scared he’d end up hurting him in the long run. 

“I can assure you that your father has learnt his lesson. I’ve seen into his mind and I’ve sensed it for a few weeks now. If you’d like…you can perform the spell to make him immortal.” You whisper to him. 

“Does he truly deserve it, mum?” He asks quietly.

“I know he’s hurt us so much in the past, but he’s genuinely trying. He deserves it. It’s not like we can’t rip that immortality away from him. You and I are the only ones who know of the counter spell. Go on, son, you’ll do wonderful.” You urge softly. 

You step back, watching him pull his wand and aim it at your husband. He mumbles the spell, a bright light shooting out of his wand. The light subsides and your husband was hunched over, slowly standing as he looks back at you and Tom.

“What…” He mumbles.

“You’re immortal. Mum said I could cast the spell.” Tom says nonchalantly.

Your husband strides forward, pulling his son into a hug. Tom tenses before slowly hugging his father back.

“To be able to perform a spell your mother has created is truly a one of a kind achievement. I’m so proud of you son.” He murmurs. 

I think there’s a flaw in my code

(Oh, ooh-oh, ooh-oh, oh)

These voices won’t leave me alone

Well,my heart is gold and my hands are cold