#but I did cry today because the amount of time from my life that I will lose just by commuting 5 days a week made me so upset and angry

[onedirecton]

having a great time on Planet Earth again (I’m not)

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

Genre: Angsty Fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: intense swearing, violence, being drugged/spiking someone's drink, mentions of blood, vomiting, crying, a suggestive joke, James kinda has light trauma

~ again—to the kind anon that had this idea—thank you! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Everyone knew it was you and James. It has always been you and James. Ever since the third term of your second year when he'd stolen you an absurd amount of chocolates and candies from Honeydukes because you had failed an exam and were sobbing in your dorm, you knew he had you hooked around his pinky. Luckily, you had him wrapped around yours just as well.

He was yours as you were his. 

It didn't worry you that you hadn't seen your boyfriend all day because N.E.W.T's were coming up and as much as he pretends not to study or care, you've never met someone more desperate for success.

James had even left you a little note signed "only yours" telling you he'd be in the library today, so you used this time to spent the day with the girls instead. 

However, you didn't expect to see what you did when you walked into the Great Hall that evening.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter look just as dumbfounded as you when James stands from his usual seat, his arms outstretching towards another girl.

Your smile falters and you freeze up, your stomach sinking as his hands find the girl's waist and he spins her around.

"What the fuck?" Marlene mutters from next to you, her arms crossed. 

"Who is that?" Mary asks, unhooking her arm from Lily's as she sympathetically touches your shoulder. You blink, unable to look away from whatever nightmare is happening.

James would never cheat on you—especially in public like this.

Never.

"Amerie something, she's in my Potions class," Marlene whispers but her gaze is hard.

James's grin is wide and the girl—Amerie apparently—holds him closer. She's beaming as her manicured hands finds his cheeks and your entire world shatters when she presses her lips to his. James leans into her kiss, one hand at her waist while the other runs in her dark curls. 

Marlene breaks at the same time as Sirius does and they march up to the couple. You're stunned, your eyes watering as you replay how your beloved boyfriend kissed another girl in front of everyone. Including you. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lily takes your hand and guides you towards where everyone had gathered. Marlene is being held back by Mary, but she's furious as she screams at James and Amerie. Sirius stands next to James, his arms crossed as he stares at his best friend.

When his gaze flickers to you all calm crumbles. "James," Sirius says, interrupting Marlene's shrieks, as he sounds unusually serious, "This is wrong. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

James has never looked this confused in his life. "What are you talking about, Pads?" he asks innocently, his eyes scanning all his friends and their upset expressions.

They skim over you as if you were nothing to him— as if he hadn't held you close to his heart just yesterday and whispered how much he loved you into your hair. 

Amerie leans into James, her hand on his chest, and even Remus scoffs.

"You can't be serious, James?" Remus says. He stands and puts his hand on your other shoulder as Lily holds your other arm. He stands tall and looks stern, clearly unamused by whatever sick joke he thinks his best friend is playing. 

James's eyes widen but even Peter squeaks, "You have a girlfriend," as if to remind James.

"I know!!" James exclaims and turns to Amerie as he smiles like a love-sick fool. You feel like you're going to vomit all over your uniform. "Aren't I allowed to kiss my lovely girlfriend?" 

 Chaos ensues as Amerie holds James closer, her icy-blue eyes staring into yours with venom and malice as Marlene lunges for the two of them.

Marlene is pulled away by Mary and Lily and Sirius and Remus speak up with confusion as they jumble out accusations and disbelief.

You stand there, frozen, as your boyfriend looks right through you.

"She is your girlfriend, you dimwit!" Lily shouts and points to you. "Not this minger," Marlene adds with a hiss at Amerie, eyes dark. 

James finally looks at you and your breath hitches when you see the look in his eyes. There is no remorse or shame, just a blank expression as he looks you over.

"Who?" he asks as he turns to his friends with a genuine look of confusion on his face. His question brings silence to the group and you feel warm tears brim in your eyes.

Some part of you screams at you that the confusion is real. You know James and you know how he lies. But his voice rings in your ears as pain caves in your chest and you turn, breaking into an embarrassing jog as you run away. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lies. 

* * *

A few hours later, when Lily comes into the dorm with news that James is in the Hospital Wing, you don't want to care but you do. Just the mention of James in pain hurts you and Lily doesn't even have to convince you to come see him. 

You walk into the room and your eyes instantly widen. Dumbledore and Amerie stand in one corner. Amerie's eyes are bloodshot and she's pleading with Dumbledore—who looks absolutely furious.

Lily pulls you to the main dilemma and you see James sitting up in a bed, a bowl in his lap as he's encouraged to vomit. He's surrounded by Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Madame Pomfrey. 

Remus sees you and Lily and he walks up to you. 

"Is he okay?" you ask, your voice small and hoarse from your crying.

"Love potion," Remus doesn't waste time as he glances at Amerie in the corner, his jaw clenched, "she slipped it in his drink when we went to lunch. I lost him this afternoon after that but I thought he'd gone to find you. It's strong, well made, but Madame Pomfrey is convinced she can reverse the spell it has on him."

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing as you take in his words. A love potion? It had all been fake.

You turn to look at Amerie and anger swims through you. She'd drugged your boyfriend and taken him from you. You clench your fist.

If she wasn't with Dumbledore, you'd punch her. 

"But Y/n," Remus interrupts your violent fantasies and Lily takes your hand. Lily clearly knows the news Remus is about to break and it doesn't sound good. "The reason he didn't remember you is that the potions—well he was already in love with you so the potion messed up that chemistry and it was so strong it reversed all those emotions to Amerie. Erased any memory of you completely."

You feel like you can't breathe. 

"Madame Pomfrey doesn't think she can fully reverse his memory loss," Lily whispers and tightens her grip on your hand, "Obviously, he won't be in love with Amerie anymore but—we don't think he'll remember you either." 

You can barely hear her. Your eyes water as your eyes glaze over and you look behind Remus at James. Your James, who is puking his guts out and who doesn't have a clue who you are. He has no more memories of you. No more midnight secrets or scandalous touches. No more sweet confessions or fleeting arguments. Nothing.

And it's all her fault. 

You storm up to Amerie, ignoring the Headmaster's presence, as you see red. You grab her by the shoulder and punch her in the nose.

The sound resounds around the room as she falls back, a broken cry leaving her mouth as she holds her nose. Blood runs down her mouth and chin, her tears mixing with the crimson liquid as nurses rush to her. 

Your voice is unemotional when you snarl, "Stay away from him, you psycho cunt."

* * *

You sit in the common room, bandaging your bruised knuckles, as you let your tears fall freely. Your heart feels broken and crushed into absolutely nothing.

You don't even care about the detention Dumbledore was basically forced to assign you. "Violence, no matter how deserved, is never the answer," he had said and perhaps he had a point because breaking Amerie's nose didn't really make you feel any better.

She'd still taken your heart away from you. 

All you want is to reverse time and prevent James from leaving so early in the morning and slipping through your fingers. You hate yourself for not finding him in the library that afternoon. You should have studied with him—maybe then you could have prevented this. 

You unclench your fist and stare at James's crumbled note from a few hours earlier. 

Early morning for Quidditch then I'll be in the library studying. You can always join me, lovie, or go to Hogsmeade with the girls, I know they miss you. I can't always be selfish and have you all to myself, can I? 

I love you, my darling. 

Only yours,  

J

You choke on another sob and you resist the need to scream. 

"Hi," a familiar voice suddenly whispers from above you and you look up. Color has returned to James's cheeks and he's standing in front of you. He's so familiar and so different.

He doesn't look at you the same and you want to cry harder. He looks down at the note in your hand and holds out his hand when he sees a glimpse of his own chicken scratch. 

You hand it to him without a word, leaning back on the couch as you wipe your tears with your palms. You shut your eyes, feeling the cushions dip as James sits next to you and you can feel the tension in the air. You peek at him as he shakes the note and says, "So, this is real, hm? It's not some messed up nightmare? I- I don't even remember writing this. I remember this morning but—you aren't in the memory," his voice sounds shaky. 

"It's okay," you whisper, unable to say much more or you'll cry. 

James turns to you and shakes his head. "No. It isn't okay. I want to remember you," he whispers and takes your hand.

Your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sudden warmth of his touch. James puts the paper in your palm and closes it, squeezing your hand, "I obviously loved you a lot, and I think you loved me too—"

"Love," you whisper, looking him in the eyes, "I haven't stopped."

James makes a pained grimace and his hand loosens around yours. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could remember. I wish this never happened. I know I don't know you anymore or well, my brain doesn't know you but I still can't stand you being hurt because of this," he sighs, "Sirius told me everything. I have so many pictures of us in my room—my sheets smell like your perfume—I– I wish I could remember," he sounds so lost and your heart breaks.

You can't help yourself. You cup his cheek and lean your forehead onto his like you'd done a thousand times over the last years. James doesn't pull away. Instead he leans into you, as if your touch sparked a distant muscle memory.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. I-" you pause and then say, "I can help you remember, if you want?"

James doesn't hesitate and he nods, his breath unsteady, "I do. I don't understand why but my heart, well it misses you. I want to understand why." 

Your heart flutters at his words and you smile. You pull away and smile at him. His smile is weak and you know him all too well to let that slide. "What's wrong, James?" you ask and when his eyes shift, you can tell he's feeling guilty. 

"I'm sorry you lost your boyfriend. You didn't deserve that."

You sigh, "It's not your fault, okay?" you look him in the eyes and wait until he nods solemnly. "If we're meant to be, we'll figure this out, yeah?"

"Yeah," James whispers in agreement. 

* * * Six Months Later * * *

The snow falls around you as you and your friend return from The Three Broomsticks one Sunday evening. Sirius and Remus walk much faster than you and James as Sirius rambles wildly about this new muggle band Remus helped him discover, and Peter loiters behind you all as he hurries to finish reading his Transfiguration book due Monday morning—he seems quite discouraged considering the snow keeps ruining his pages. 

You are snuggled up against James, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he adjusts your scarf and presses a kiss to your head. You sigh, continuing your conversation about how very clearly chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor, and James just listens even though he has no clue why you're talking about ice cream in the dead of winter. 

Suddenly, your voice dies down and you tense when you see who's walking towards you. She's with three of her best friends—snotty Ravenclaws with egos larger than their brains—and you feel sick as all those horrible feelings come bubbling up again.

Amerie had been suspended for six months after what she had done to James and while you and your friends insisted she be expelled, your outburst of violence had inevitably lightened her sentence.

Dumbledore didn't want a scandal on his hands and Amerie's parents were well off—surprisingly more so than the Potters. 

James senses your tension and he looks up too, his stomach sinking. Amerie is staring at you both and her friends are whispering. You look between her and James, sensing how uncomfortable he is with her presence and anger boils inside you. 

Six months. Six months of peace and time you had to rebuild your relationship with him. Six months you spent taking him to all your favorite places, reminding him of all those secrets he had already earned, and telling him stories he should remember.

Six months to catch up on six years, all because of her. 

You feel James's gloved hand find yours and he squeezes it, pressing his lips into your hair near your ear and he murmurs, "Ignore her, my love." His voice sounds a little strained and you look at him, the warmth of his hazel eyes calming you. 

You nod and press a kiss to his lips. You can feel Amerie's eyes on you as you pass but you just walk faster. Once she and her friends are behind you, you squeeze James's hand too. "Are you okay?" you whisper. 

James had been very open with you about how much what had happened scared him and still does. There were times he remembered snippets of you from before, but mostly nothing, and that scares him. I never want to lose you again, he had said three months into the six and you knew he meant it. 

When James Potter loved, he loved hard, and it became very obvious his feelings for you had returned even stronger than they had been. 

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice small. 

You pause, turning around and taking his cheeks in your hands, encouraging him to look at you. "Baby, it's okay if it made you feel uncomfortable to see her. It's normal," you say, kissing his forehead and leaning against it. 

James holds you close and kisses the crook of your neck, which causes you to giggle. 

"I love you," he mumbles and you grin.

"I love you," you say and kiss his lips again.

James runs a hand in your hair and sighs, lifting his head and watching Amerie and her friends disappear down the road. "As much as I hate her for what she did, I am sort of grateful," he whispers. 

"Oh?" I ask, caressing his cheek lovingly. 

"Mmhm—it was an absolute pleasure falling in love with you all over again," James says sincerely and your heart flutters at his words. 

You laugh and ruffle his messy hair. "You're such a dork," you chuckle. 

James laughs now too, "It's true!" 

Suddenly, you shriek lightly when you feel cold snow glide down your neck from inside your scarf. You and James spin around at the same time, catching Sirius as he makes another snowball and barks out a laugh, "Ooops."

Sirius smirks and as if on cue, James bends over and pats down his own snowball to throw at Sirius in your defense. 

"Keep your grubby snowballs away from my girl, Pads," James shouts in between his laughter as he runs after his best friend. You hear Sirius mumble something that sounds like, "Ooh, kinky," before James shoves snow into his mouth. 

You just smile, your heart feeling completely full.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]

[unearthly-doting]

Heyyyy could you possibly do

Finding their soulmate: creepypasta edition

any creepypasta characters you want (including Jeff the killer & Homicidal Liu pls 🙏)

finding their soulmate: creepypasta edition.

notes: crying i miss my colored text :( i got another two soulmate posts coming ur way soon guys bc that's in high demand it seems so!! also im on my tablet writing all of this and tumblr mobile sucks so if there's any mistakes blame them not me. anyways send requests for things if u want. love u all !

includes: jeff the killer, homicidal liu, eyeless jack, nina the killer, the bloody painter, and ticci toby.

warnings: not proofread and written while i was super tired so, yandere content, mdni, inconsistent length, reader injury in jeff and toby's parts, stalking, mild poly content in liu's part bc he and sully r a package deal here, kidnapping, breaking and entering, murder, this is all actually pretty tame, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, overprotective behavior. i think that's all??

JEFF THE KILLER — didn't have a soulmate. He didn't have any soulmark, there was no name on his wrist or a string around his finger. The universe had destined him to be alone, it seems. When he was younger, this had been crushing. Why did his brother get to have a soulmate but he didn't? What was so different about him that he didn't deserve a destined love?

Though, after he became the man he is today, Jeff found that he didn't care about soulmates. He probably would've killed his soulmate, if he had one. If anything, he found himself developing a burning hatred at the very concept of soulmates.

Everyone had always played it out to be something wonderful, something people were lucky to have. But he's seen otherwise. He's killed soulmates who have turned on each other just to try and save their own life. It's all a bunch of romanticized bullshit.

And he thinks you're a dumbass for believing that your soulmate would be a good person. Jeff doesn't understand why he hasn't killed you yet, you're just some nobody that he for some reason enjoyed the company of. Maybe it's because you never try changing him. Or maybe it's boredom, who knows.

But he hates when you talk about your soulmate that you've yet to meet. You speak as if you're already in love, and it leaves this suffocating feeling in his chest each time. It didn't feel like anger or annoyance, but he was too prideful to label it as jealousy. Why would he be jealous?

Why do you want to meet your soulmate so badly anyway? You have him. He may not be your soulmate, but does it really matter? You better really hope this man never realizes he's in love with you because you're actually fucked if he does, like…

The moment he comes to terms with his feelings for you, you're never meeting your soulmate. He's crossing out their name on your wrist with his knife and replacing it with his own. You wanted to meet your soulmate so badly, so there. Now he's your soulmate. His name is forever carved on your skin, after all.

He may even force you to carve your name into his arm as well to further solidify the whole ‘soulmate’ thing you so desperately craved. You're stuck with him now, like it or not. No amount of screaming and crying will change what's happened.

Jeff doesn't understand why you're so upset. You wanted this. You were practically begging him for it, always telling him your dream life with the one you're destined with. Seriously, you should've expected this from him.

But it's okay, he'll be the soulmate that you've always wanted.

He'll stay by your side. He'll kill anyone who dares to even think about you. You said so yourself, you don't need anyone so long as you have your soulmate.

Really, he's just giving you what you want. Though he won't lie, he can't help but feel a sick and twisted pleasure at having you depend on him. He likes having you around, even if it's with your mouth taped shut to keep you quiet.

Maybe this soulmate thing isn't as bad as he thought it was.

HOMICIDAL LIU — had always dreamed of meeting his soulmate when he was younger. Something about soulmates always fascinated him, and he absolutely loved hearing stories of soulmates meeting and falling in love.

He learned from a pretty young age that whoever his soulmate was, he shared scars with them. This was something he discovered when he felt a stinging sensation on his arm one day and he could see the scar manifest on his skin. He had been so fascinated by it, and even excitedly showed it off to his parents and Jeff as if it were some sort of reward.

Though, after nearly dying at the hand of his little brother, Liu had become… terrified at the thought of meeting his soulmate. He knew that you shared his scars now. You probably got weird looks from people on the street because of them, right?

And it must've been a horrific experience, waking up in the middle of the night to blinding pain all over your face and neck and arms, unable to stop the scars from forming, not knowing what was happening. You probably hated him. He wouldn't blame you if he did.

But when Liu met you, there was no way he'd be able to let you go. At first, he had just seen you in passing, He knew you were his soulmate the moment he laid eyes on you because you weren't even trying to hide the scars you had. You wore them proudly. He had followed you home that night, just to make sure you were safe.

He felt bad about it, but he couldn't help but come back the next day. His mother must be yelling at him from her grave, scolding him for stalking his soulmate instead of just talking to them like a normal person. A simple mistake on his end (aka Sully literally forced the man in front of you) led to the two of you actually meeting.

You had been so concerned, asking him if he were okay. It had been years since he sustained these injuries, but you still asked. You had always wanted to ask, ever since that night. Your pain was dull in comparison to what he must've gone through, and Liu nearly cried experiencing your kindness because he simply did not deserve it.

Liu tries really hard to have a normal relationship with you, he really does, but he's so utterly paranoid about your safety almost constantly when he's away from you. It makes him sick to his stomach imagining the danger you could potentially find yourself in without him around to keep you safe.

It didn't help that Sully only amplified these thoughts and good lord, how would you react to meeting Sully? Liu had always been very careful making sure that he never fronted when you were around, but Sully was starting to become ansty, eager to meet you.

When Liu wasn't hunting Jeff, he was with you. Sometimes you knew, but most of the time, you didn't. Stalking you was second nature at this point, and he doubts it's something he'll ever stop doing. Besides, it's not like he's hurting anyone by stalking the person he loves. Is it completely wrong and a violation of privacy and respect? Yes. Does he feel guilty? Absolutely. Will he stop? No chance. This is for your safety, after all.

Sully thinks he's a fucking fool behaving this way all for one person just because you're his soulmate (which he also thinks is dumb, by the way.) but then he actually meets you for the first time. You had immediately clocked in on the fact that he wasn't Liu, even though Sully prides himself on mimicking the man fairly well. Looks like you have two soulmates now! Yay!

Unfortunately for you, Sully is a lot more direct than Liu. Liu keeps his possessive thoughts to himself whilst Sully makes it very clear that you belonged to them. Liu's affection was hesitant, scared that he may hurt you if he's too eager. Sully's affection was almost suffocating, the way he'd cling to you and refuse to let go.

And if you ever decide that being with them is too much, trust me when I say they will go to great lengths to keep you with them. Liu isn't above locking you away somewhere if it means keeping you safe, and Sully won't hesitate to kill someone just to keep you in check.

Liu just wants to keep you safe. You can't protect yourself, so let him do it for you.

EYELESS JACK — was confused by the blackened, withered string connected to his pinkie. He knew what soulmates were, though he's not sure why the remnant of one was still tied to him. After his… changes… he shouldn't have a soulmate at all, not even the remnants of one.

Even the smallest string around his finger meant the bond was still there. It made no sense, it defied nature itself just by existing. He didn't understand, but he couldn't deny that he was curious. Whoever was on the other side of this string was destined to be with him, how could he not be curious?

It took time, but Jack had plenty to spare. He followed the string as best he could. The poor thing was so fragile, the smallest tug could tear the bond apart. He's not sure what he'll do when he finds the one he has a fragile bond with, to be honest. Soulmates aren't really… useful, to him. His only driving force is survival. Food. Nothing else is important.

Yet this was, oddly enough. There was just something deep inside of him telling him that he needed to find his soulmate.

And when he found the end of his string, it was connected to you. Now, Jack has no memory of who he was before becoming a flesh-eating demon. He was human once, he thinks, so maybe that's why there's something so familiar about you. A long forgotten part of himself was craving you.

And you? You were utterly horrified to find someone that resembles your missing best friend in your home one night. This was Jack, and yet… he wasn't. You didn't know this man. You didn't want to know this man. But he didn't care. Jack was dead set on having you.

He wouldn't leave you alone. He showed up every single night just to watch you. It was unnerving. To you, it felt like he was waiting for the right time to strike. You were waiting for him to kill you, to devour your soul or whatever.

To him, he was protecting you.

You were his mate. That's what he recognized you as. And as your mate, it was his duty to protect you. He didn't see his behavior as odd. To him, he was just providing for you. He saw no harm in breaking into your home every night to make sure you were safe.

Jack may not understand fully why he's attached to you like this, but he can make an educated guess. It's clear that you knew him. Or, you did, at least. You look at him as if you're looking at a ghost. Clearly, you were someone he's always been attached to. Though, it seems his demonic traits have amplified that attachment.

He won't hesitate to hunt you down if you try running away.

There's nowhere you can go where he won't find you. He'll follow you to the ends of the earth, if he must.

Jack doesn't need you to love him back. Hell, he doesn't need you to like him. He just needs you, in any way he can have you. His entire being aches when he's not with you.

So here you are, stuck with the creature. You're haunted by him, really. And, to be honest, you're not sure if you wanted him to leave.

NINA THE KILLER — wrote literal fanfic on how she wanted her first meeting with her soulmate to go. All she ever wanted was for someone to love her, so when she learned that the inner voice that all of her thoughts was in belonged to her soulmate, she was utterly ecstatic!

This was the only thing in life that mattered to her. Nothing else was important. Everyone in her life thought she was strange, how obsessed she was over someone she hasn't even met.

But if they could hear your voice, they'd understand. Whenever she needed comfort, she would just think random thoughts so she could hear your voice.

And when she finally meets you, it's like something out of a fairytale. To her, at least. She had just broken into your home to kill you, but when you begged for your life, it was like everything clicked.

She looked at you as if you were everything she could ever need, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

Nina had no plans of letting you go now that she finally had you. One moment, you're in your home, and then the next, you're waking up in a cabin deep in the forest, decorated to seem like a cozy home.

She acted as if she hadn't kidnapped you. In her mind, you two were pretty much married already. You're her soulmate, after all! That's better than marriage in her eyes. And if you don't play along with her, she won't hesitate to remind you just exactly what she could do to you.

Not that she would ever actually hurt you!

No, Nina could never do that. You're the only thing that has kept her sane all these years. Your voice is the only thing that keeps her going these days.

You just gotta understand that Nina can't live without you. She'd never hurt you, but she's not above scaring you into compliance if it means you'll play along with her fantasies.

But if you ignore the fact that she kidnapped you and is holding you hostage in a cabin so deep in the woods that your chance of escape is slim to none, she's actually probably the best soulmate you could ever ask for. When you actually play along with her, that is.

She doesn't force too much affection on you. If she wants to cuddle you, she will, like it or not. But she never takes it any further than that. She respects your boundaries in her own sick and twisted way.

There's no escaping her love now that she finally has you. She'll drown you in it until it's all you'll want.

THE BLOODY PAINTER — had no real interest in meeting his soulmate, even if it meant his world lacked color. The lack of color in his world didn't deter from his passion for art, and he didn't need to see color to create a masterpiece. If anything, the black and white world he lived in seemed to fit him perfectly.

Sure, he had a few passing thoughts on what his soulmate might be like, but it's nothing he ever really entertained. And if he ever met his soulmate, he sincerely doubts he'd want any real connection with them. Rather, he doubts they'd want anything to with him.

So imagine his surprise when he bumps into you one day and color suddenly bursts into his world. It's dizzying, for the both of you, but all Helen can focus on is the red you were wearing.

Red is a beautiful color on you.

It's an awkward start to your relationship, mostly because it was so sudden. Neither of you really knew what to do, and in the beginning, it honestly seemed as if you two just weren't meant to be. But somehow, it seemed to work out.

Helen really didn't want you finding out about his whole serial killer thing. He wanted a normal relationship with you. Something that would separate him from the whole ‘Bloody Painter’ title the media had given him.

He could spend hours just drawing you. You invade his every thought most days, and he can draw you from memory. He has numerous sketchbooks just filled to the brim with drawings of you. And almost all of them feature the color red in some way.

Art was his main way of expressing his love to you. His expression was always apathetic and his words never felt like enough to him, so what better way to show his love than by painting you masterpieces? Almost every piece of art he made these days were dedicated to you. Even his murders.

It was only a matter of time before you learned about his side hobby, unfortunately. You were smart, something he loved very dearly about you. He's not sure when you started to suspect him of being a killer, but he knew you were starting to become wary of him. Whenever the news talked about a recent murder, he could always feel the way your gaze drifted over to him, even if for a moment.

To be honest, he didn't see any reason to confirm nor deny your suspensions. He was curious to see whether you'd stay with him or if you'd try to leave the longer you suspected him. Not that he'd let you, of course. Helen couldn't lose you, you were his muse. If he lost you, how could he ever create art?

Helen would only do something if you tried telling someone about your suspicions. Maybe your friend or family member was a detective, but whoever you try telling is going to end up a bloodied corpse in front of you, your boyfriend standing over their corpse with a look of mild disgust.

Their blood smearing onto your skin when Helen gently cups your cheeks, telling you how careless you had been, how you left him with no choice but to kill that person. You were freaked out by the entire situation, but Helen wouldn't let you go.

Red truly is a beautiful color on you.

TICCI TOBY — genuinely had no idea he had a soulmate, simply because he couldn't feel pain. Truth be told, he didn't even know what soulmates were until he was already a proxy. Kate had been kind enough to explain it to him, when he questioned the mark on her neck.

It was a concept that he found interesting because the idea of meeting someone who would finally understand him was too good to pass up. At the same time, he couldn't help but think it to be bullshit. Toby had always been disillusioned to love, even if he couldn't quite remember why. It just seemed too good to be true.

He wasn't even sure if he had a soulmate, truth be told. He didn't have any marks on him as far as he could tell, and there were no words or names or anything like that. He just assumed he was one of the rare few that didn't have a soulmate.

But then he met you.

You, the newest proxy. Fresh meat, dazed and confused and in need of training. He was like you once, years ago. He trained himself, too stubborn to listen to anyone else. Because of that, Slender always made him train any new proxy it brought. It annoyed him beyond belief, but he didn't have much of a choice.

There was something strange about you. He's not quite sure what it was, but he found it strangely difficult to look away from you for too long. There was just… something drawing him to you. He only understood why when he cut himself on his hand when he retrieved one of his hatchets he had you throwing.

You had gasped. It was a pained one, so of course he had to check you for injuries. When he found the cut on your hand, you had pointed out the fact that he had a similar one on his own. It was… weird, truthfully. And maybe he was being dumb, or whatever, but Toby couldn't help but wonder if… were you his soulmate?

The very thought was enough to drag his hatchet across his arm, watching as the very same cut he had given himself tore into your skin as well. It had left him speechless, to say the least. He felt conflicted in so many ways, and to be honest, he avoided you in the beginning. He had nobody for the longest time, and now he suddenly has a soulmate? It was just a bit much for him, and he needed the space.

But trust that once he's accepted that he has someone in his life now, you're stuck with him. Toby isn't a physical person, so you don't have to worry about him actually sticking to you, but he always seems to be keeping an eye on you. For Toby, he's always been hyper aware of his surroundings because if he's not, he could get hurt without realizing it and then bleed out and die, so sad. But now he has to make sure you don't get hurt as well, already becoming increasingly protective over you.

Any missions tasked to you, Toby will always join you. Doesn't matter how simple the mission is, or if you or Slender try to argue with him, he's going.

He's so protective over you that it borders on possessive. He hates when you get close to anyone, and the moment you leave his line of sight, he's hunting you down. Friend or foe, Toby doesn't want you near them. You have to understand that everyone has bad intentions. Hell, Toby himself acknowledges his behavior to be bad as well, he's well aware of that fact. But to him, it's for your own good. You can trust him, but you can't trust anyone else.

And there's literally no chance that you'll be able to leave him if you tried. As a proxy of Slenderman, you're stuck with him. Slender doesn't care about your comfort, it only cares about you completing the missions it gives to you. Sure, it finds Toby's behavior strange and mildly annoying, but it's not causing you any physical harm, so it simply doesn't care.

But Toby would never, under any circumstances, hurt you. That's something he will vehemently refuse to do no matter what, so you could use that against him if need be.

Just… just let him have this. Let him have you.

[greeniegirl23]

Alastor As A Father (Son Version)

- 10 hours. You had been in labor for the second time in your life and it lasted 10 fucking hours...

-As the doctors tended to your newborn son, you quickly grabbed Alastor by his throat and growled in his ear. "If you ever put me in this position again I promise I'll throw you out of the hotel so the Angels can erase you during the next extermination!! Are we clear?!"

He gulped, dangerously aware of your seriousness. "Crystal.."

- Back to your newborn. He was similar to his sister when she was a baby. Your son wasn't a crybaby., not even in the slightest. Only whimpering or whining when he wanted something. It took a lot to make him actually cry and when he did you both knew he was hurt or you'd probably have to kill somebody.

- This time around, Alastor had decided to step up his parenting game and started doing some research. Starting out with some baby books that Charlie lent him from her Dad. He became very invested in your child's development and even tried to convince you that your daughter might have been a 'slow' baby in her toddler years.

"Al, for the hundredth time our daughter turned out fine!" You groaned, rinsing off a plate and handing it too him to dry. "You can't believe everything those books say, especially when they're so.. statistic based."

Alastor huffed. "Darling, according to the book she should have started walking earlier than when she did. Assuming that it's true, I don't want the same for our boy. They will have to protect each other when we're no longer around. Which means he's going to have to be a strapping young gentleman and there's no better time to start than now."

- Unfortunately, this started a somewhat heated argument between you. Alastor was frustrated that you couldn't see how important it was to get an early start, while you were pissed at the fact that he thought your very intelligent, very capable 13 year old was slow and that he was putting too much pressure on your 4 month old who still enjoyed chewing on his own feet.

- As much as you fought for him to understand your point, Alastor became an immovable boulder and you were too dull of an axe to crack him open.

- This stressed you out for two reasons. One, the potential for your son to grow up underneath insane amounts of pressure at such a young age was high. Two, you knew Alastor would sneak behind your back to mold this boy into who he believed he should be and unfortunately, there wasn't much you could do about it.

- You had to trust that in time Alastor would learn from mistakes he made. Until he did though, you promised to be there emotionally for your son and to stop your husband from going too far.

-As your boy grew, the fears you had for him began to come to light. Alastor was just as harsh as an old master. Despite your son's grades, physical strength, and domestic skills for a boy, it still was never enough for his father. It was bad enough the point where your son exclaimed that he hated his father.

"He's never happy with me!" Your now six-year-old child cried in your chest after another incident of Alastor's cold hearted nature. "I drew a picture of him today in class, got all A's on my assignments and he just brushed it off! I don't understand.." He sniffled. "Did I..-Did I do something bad?"

"Of course not Sweetie," You said, trying to comfort him. He's tears soaked your shirt as you tried to come up with a plan to put a stop to this madness.

"Then why doesn't he love me..?"

- The sharp pang in your heart that you felt in that moment brought you and your husband back to a pretty foul argument that went unfinished years prior. Giving that man a piece of your mind once again felt good and this time he was going to listen regardless of if he wanted to or not. How dare he make your child feel that way?! Much less make him cry!

"The boy is too sensitive." Alastor groaned, flipping through his news paper. "He's crying over absolute nonsense."

"He's been crying because you've been on his ass like white on rice since he was three months old!" You exclaimed. "All he's trying to do is impress you but you shoot him down and strap him with more work and expectations. He's six, Alastor!"

Alastor growled. "If he's so obsessed with feelings like love and acceptance, then clearly I'm failing at my job as a parent. Do you think the people of Hell care about utter gutter trash like that? I'm making him strong so can protect himself and his sister, to protect you if I should meet my second demise. Why don't you seem to understand that?!"

Sadness took over your features as you realized that Alastor had blinded himself by his own worries. "Your job as a parent is to feed them, cloth them, give them shelter, and to be there for them. That counts being there emotionally!"

Finally Alastor had enough, "He'll be fine, this conversation is over." He grumbled, preparing to walk off to dismiss you again.

"No, it's not!" You yelled, getting right in his face to show you weren't backing down. You knew he'd never lay a hand on you or anything of the sort, but the tensions were high and you needed his full acknowledgement.

"Our jobs as parents are to protect our children, but your so worried about preparing them for this godforsaken place until you can't even save your son from yourself!" You backed away for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"Do you realize what he could become from your neglect? He could be the next fuckin' Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy all because of your efforts to make him "strong"." You sighed, shaking your head in confusion and disappointment as your eyes grew glossy. "Alastor you weren't ever like this with our daughter. Sure you were a bit overprotective of her but you still allowed her to be a child. So why do things have to be different for our son?.."

- Alastor looked at you for what seemed like an eternity. The moment lasts so long as your tongue grows thick in your mouth. With an angry huff after what seems like forever, he just, walked right by you. Grabbing his tail coat and heading out the door.

- To say you were shocked was an understatement. Immediately you fell to your knees and started to cry. Weeping for yourself, for your son, because your husband was too damn stubborn sometimes, and because you weren't strong enough to stop him.

- You came to the conclusion that you needed some space. Quickly you gathered your children and their belongings, made a call, and went back to the place where it all started.

- Charlie welcomed you with open arms, happy to see you once again and offering you a shoulder to cry on if needed.

-You took her up on that offer, as well as Vaggie while the other patrons enjoyed the company of your kids. Angel Dust even recommended a shopping day with everyone, for old times sake. Your daughter agreed happily in her monotoned voice while your baby boy seemed quiet.

- As you ran back the events of the night to your friends, they both seemed equally as concerned as you were for your son's well-being.

-Speaking of which. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a while now. Last you checked, he had gone in the kitchen to get a drink. You asked if anyone had seen him since, only to get a sound of reverberating "No's"

- You panicked. Running to the kitchen only to find the window open and one of the knives on the counter was missing. A note hung on the curtain, quickly you read it.

"Daddy made me cry and he made you cry too. I think it's his turn to cry now. I'm sorry Mama.."

A disturbing chill crawled quickly up your spine as you ran back out into the lobby screaming in fear.

-You gave Husker the note as Charlie demanded the car to be brought around so you could stop your son's psychotic break.

"Don't you think we're overreacting a bit? He's six and like 4'3 he can't have gotten far." The grumpy cat said.

"This is Alastor's kid we're talking about, do you really think he's your typical elementary school boy? She sliced someone's arm off when she was eight!" Vaggie exclaimed, referring to your daughter who was now trying to console you.

"Our Dad was gone before we left home, maybe he's not back yet?" She inquired hopefully.

"Sweetie, I didn't tell him we were leaving. If he's gone out he always comes back around 10:30 to say good night to you and your brother. It's 11:00, so I'm sure he's home by now."

-As you, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husker hopped in the car to speed off to your home. You couldn't help but pray to God that something would stop your son from going through with something so cruel.

- Alastor sighed as he walked back into his home. It was wrong for him to talk out like that and his reprimand from Rosie was finally what helped him understand that.

-He was ready to apologize to you and to his son. Expecting you to appreciate his change of heart and maybe even earn his son's forgiveness.

-What he didn't expect, was an empty house. Nor the note on the fridge explaining where you were. It has a few tear stains on it and he cursed himself for making you cry. As he read it, part of him wanted to go to the hotel and apologize to you there. The other part of him realized he had pushed you away too far and maybe, just maybe you needed some time alone to reel in your thoughts.

- Slowly, he made his way up the stairs into your shared bedroom. Smelling like whiskey and feeling slightly depressed. His smile was maintained of course, though it was small and forced to whoever might see it.

- He flopped into bed. Rather ungracefully but he didn't care, there was no one around. No one to scold him or ask him if he had a hard day.

- The house creaked as the night wind blew through his window. His face was stuffed in a pillow as he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo. Flowery, like his Mother used to wear.

-She was always there for him. Kind of like you were always there for your family as well. Both him and your children looked to you for inspiration, love, and affection. Which made him feel even worse for putting you in such a position earlier. Here you are, giving him children, making time for them and him, while also trying to make time for yourself. Fighting against your own husband just so he could see what was important to you, only for him to brush it all off in a hissy fit because he couldn't handle being told he was doing a bad job at being a good father.

-Now, when you asked him about this at a later time. He told you he's unsure of how it happened. He can't remember if he was so wrapped up in his thoughts to the point he wasn't aware of his surroundings, or if your son may be part snake instead of part deer.

-But what he does remember is turning on his back just in time to stop the butcher knife from impaling him straight through the heart. How the hell this person got into the house and into his bedroom without making a sound is something Alastor would never know.

-Whoever the hell had lost their mind to do such a thing was about to become a stain on the wall because if their was one thing for certain and two things for sure Alastor wasn't in the fucking mood until he realized the familiar figure in the darkness was his own flesh and blood.

-His son. His own son was straddling his waist, struggling against his Dad's 137 year old strength at just six and a half years of existence. Alastor didn't understand what was going on, why was he doing this and where were you?!

"What are you doing?!" Alastor yelled. Trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

The boy stayed silent and screamed out something close to a war cry as he used his entire body weight to push the knife closer to Alastor's chest.

"I'm talking to you boy and you'd better answer me this instant!"

"Shut UP!" He shouted. "You don't get to talk to me! Not after what you did earlier today!"

Alastor's heart stopped a bit after he realized that his son had overheard the argument between the two of you.

"That was a misunderstanding! Your mother and I may have exchanged words but everything will be alright, now put the knife down!"

The child growled something feral. "It's not going to be okay, things between us were never okay! From the moment I started training under you, you've been nothing but a big bully. I'd go crying to Mom when you weren't around because all you ever saw me for was worthless! You never loved me and I was willing to accept that because Mom promised me that you'd change in time, but after today I don't believe that anymore!"

With a swift move, the boy had broken the arm lock he was in and lifted the knife over his head to plunge into the man he called Father. Tears weld in his eyes as he swung forward, his pupils changed similar to Alastor's and his voice became distorted with anger and malice. For the first time, Alastor swore he knew how his victims felt as his own smile grinned mercilessly back at him.

"YOu MaDE my MoTHeR CrY AnD FOR thAT, I'LL mAKE SuRE YoU NEvEr MaKE EIthER oF US cRY AgAIN!!"

- It was like a switch in his head had been flicked on. Alastor watched as his son swung his blade forward in slow motion. Memories of himself and what he had done to his own father came whirling back.

- The past seemed to have repeated itself. What a sick and twisted universe. He remembered the arguments between his parents. The sounds of glass shattering and his mother's begging for the pain to stop. He remembered peaking into her room to see her covering her face with makeup to hide the bruses. The fake smiles she'd give him in the morning while she cleaned up the mess from the night before. The deep silence between him and his Dad when he stabbed him to death in the very same way. He tried to hide the body on his own, he didn't want mother to be mad at him or find out. But she did and may have indirectly set his path down a dark road by justifying his actions at 14 years of age.

"Murder ain't good Alastor," She said, sitting him on her lap as she rocked with him in her rocking chair. Her sweet Southern drawl was like music to his ears. "You shouldn't have killed that man, n' I won't try to pretend what you did was right."

"Yes ma'am..." He replied sadly, on the verge of tears until she spoke again.

"Listen Allie. Anyone who kills another person, just for the sake of making someone else smile, is alright with me. I know the only reason you did what you did, is because you felt like you had to and you couldn't stand to see me gettin hurt no more." she sighed. "I just wish I was strong enough to leave when I had the chance, n maybe' you're lil would have stayed clean from the blood of my mistakes.."

"M'Sorry Mama.."

She smiled. "No Baby, I'm sorry. For makin' you live through that when you shouldn't have. My sins are now yours to bare. N' sadly there ain't much I can do to fix that." Fixing his glasses on his face, she gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Promise me you'll stay strong Alastor, bare these sins with a smile and don't add on to them unless you absolutely have to."

"I promise." He replied. Swearing silently to make her proud and for her to keep smiling, no matter what.

-Everything made sense now. Truly it did. Why you were so concerned. How he became so blind. What he buried deep within and how he manifested into the situation he was in now.

-But unlike his father, Alastor had a choice and a chance to do better before it was too late. Quickly, the Radio Demon sat up and snatched the knife out of his son's grip mid swipe. The blade clattered to the ground and gave his child the loving embrace he so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry." He said with sincerity. "I should have never made your Mother cry, nor should I have ever made you feel less than appreciated. I am proud of what you've done, who you've become, and who you're going to be."

He felt the small body go rigid. Freezing in confusion as his Dad actually told him how he felt for once. Alastor continued. " I'm sorry for making you think I never loved you. In fact, I love you so much that I wanted you to be perfect. To be strong, to protect your sister, and your mother when I'm not here anymore. But I put far too much on you too soon, which was unfair to you in a number of ways. I only wanted the best for you, but I couldn't see that I was harming you in the process and I never, ever wanted that..."

Pulling away from his son, one of the biggest pride and joys he had down in this disgusting cesspool. He wiped the child's tears away and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are my son and I love you, I apologize that it took me so long to say it, but it is true. I'm proud of you for being willing to protect your mother, even from me. I had to do the same thing around your age to the man that would have been your grandpa, but he was terrible to us and deserved to be slaughtered. You're already further ahead than I am, so please. Forgive me and I promise our relationship from here on will be much, much different than what it's been."

- Alastor watched as his son hiccuped and sobbed. Nodding his head and mumbling out a meek "Okay.." He dove in for another hug and Alastor allowed him to stay there and cry tears of relief for as long as he needed to.

- Not too long afterwards, you came barreling into the house and raced up stairs. Calling Alastor's name and for your son until you literally kicked down the door to your bedroom, stopping at what you found and thanking God for hearing your prayers.

-The others came after you in a frenzy but quickly let out breathes of relief at the sight of your smile. Quietly you 'shhhed' them and stepped aside to see the same beautiful sight you did.

-There on your king sized bed, sat your husband and his son. Alastor was propped upwards against the headboard, using pillows to support is back while his head was supported by your son. The six year old was snuggled up against his father's chest, sleeping soundly underneath his throat while Alastor's arms seemed to form a somewhat protective cage around him.

- Smiling happily, you closed the door to the room and headed downstairs with everyone else. Heading back to the hotel and leaving a note for Alastor in the morning that encouraged him to catch up on lost time with your second-born. Satisfied that their bond was finally forming into something beautiful.

(Wow, I did not plan to get as invested in this as I did. I just let the story flow and got this, honestly I love it and would like to see some of my theories between Alastor and his Mom come to fruition. Anyways, I'll see y'all in the next post! Don't forget to comment something you might want to see me write next :D P.S Why the fuck did I post this without editing it..?)

[itstheghostofmypast]

16.51

University Student P.Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: Sometimes, you just need a sugar boost and some Lego sets to make your day a bit brighter - oh, don't forget the main ingredient, Park Seonghwa.

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1K

Est.Read Time: 5 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

A/N: For my hardworking girlboss- @edenesth (a late bday present of sorts).

With a heavy sigh, she placed her bag on the bench before slumping down beside it. Whoever said university was fun deserved a special place in hell. Two years in, and she still had to sit on a patch of grass surrounded by her friends, all looking up at the camera with smiles that would put toothpaste ads to shame. Not to mention the endless hours of back-to-back classes, followed by the nonsensical amount of assignments and projects given to them, all made her wonder what exactly was this all for? She was not birthed to become a slave of capitalism, a slave of the system- she was but a mere butterfly, all too willing to flutter around in an endless field of opportunities, skipping from one soft petal to another, tasting the sweet essence of a blissful and youthful life.

Or she could get a rubber-clad four walled white room, at least she'd be able to pass off being delusional as a crazy person, rather than someone claiming she was so depressed she had begun day dreaming in classes. Her fingers twitched at the thought of how a few juniors caught her crying in a bathroom stall today, though they were far from cruel, their consoling words just made her feel worse- maybe she really wasn't cut out for all of this. This hectic schedule, this hectic lifestyle, these expectations.

She was so invested in falling down her pit of misery and despair that she didn't notice someone pick up her back, replacing it with their own presence, nor did she notice the way he was now staring at her, for a good long while too. Her attention was grabbed by a sharp ice-coldness that spread across her numbing cheek causing her to jerk away as she gasped, cupping her cold, wet cheek, turning to glare at whoever was foolish enough to mess with her- oh.

“You know…one bad presentation doesn't define you…wasn't even that bad.”

The rumble of his hushed voice had her senses tingle, perhaps his ASMR hobby was actually well worth it, though he was still an idiot because even a dead man could see how bad her presentation was today. She tilted her head to glare at him, but once again, her view was obstructed by a condensed plastic cup filled with some kind neon green beverage - he was probably trying out those horribly weekly juices again.

“You weren't even paying attention today,” with a soft mumble she sat back straight, her legs spread out in front of her, head leaning against the uncomfortable back of the bench, staring up at the pastel adorned sky, could this day take any longer to end? Closing her eyes, she continued, “And also, you're lucky the lecturer didn't catch you. How many times have I told you not to show up in my class? Especially if it's not your majo-ack!” she choked at the sudden intrusion, something stabbing the back of her throat before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

“Shit- sorry! Why'd you open your mouth!?” He gasped, pulling back the drink, trying to not laugh at how comical it was- yes, he felt bad because he hurt her, but it was ironic how his romantic gesture just had him blowing around.

Swatting his hand away she glared at him, at his hideously good-looking face, at his stupid boba eyes, and his hair -at this point she wanted him to trim it because he was serving more looks that needed, especially with so many people eying him. With a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him, “Exactly why are you here, Park Seonghwa!?”

“Me?” He pointed to himself with the cup in hand, before bringing the plastic straw to his pouty lips, taking a sip and humming, “I came to cheer up my butterfly, got her a treat too, but instead almost killed her.” With that, he 'carefully’ pressed the straw against her lips, this time being cautious not to stab her again this time. His smile deepened at the way she took a sip, watching the way her eyes twinkle at the taste, or perhaps the rush of sugar that she oh so desperately needed after the horrid day. He let her hold the cup, busy drinking away, his hand now reaching up to her face, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles before his finger tucked the few loose strands behind her ear, “I'm sorry today didn't work out as planned.”

Placing the empty cup between them she sighed, facing him with a small smile, thankful to have someone like him, to have someone like him take care of her, be there for her, smile at her, pull her up when she was down I the dumps, have her try new things- like this Kiwi and Pineapple juice. He may have been a bit thick skulled sometimes, sometimes his inner nerd would win as hed demand they build random lego sets in the middle of the night, or he'd force her to watch him play Animal Crossing- but one thing for was for sure, reaching forward she placed her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze.

“It's alright…I'm glad you were there, it made me feel better.”

At that, he tugged her closer, pulling her into his warm embrace, giggling when he felt her sigh into his neck, gripping his shirt as if she was afraid he'd disappear. Truthfully, even during the whole mess of her presentation, the only reason she had kept going was because he was there, smiling at her, silently rooting for her, encouraging her to go on- then instantly hiding when her lecturer turned around to look at whom she was staring at, her handsome, caring, loving clown.

“I'm glad it did because I missed a test today, so at least I know it was for nothing.” He hummed, chin atop her head, enjoying the moment -

“YOU WHAT!?” Shoving him away, she glared at him wide-eyed, a test!? He skipped a test to be there!? She wasn't sure if she were to find this romantic or just stupid-

“Oh my, would you look at the time!” Standing up, he grabbed her bag, slinging it over his shoulder, grabbing the empty cup before gripping her wrist with his free hand and pulling her up, “Let us go, fairy princess!! Time to build your castle lego set! SO WE CAN HAVE OUR HAPPILY EVER AFTER FOREVER!” He declared ragging her along ignoring her complain about him not taking his academics seriously- who cared about a stupid test, he'd make up for it with extra work, all Park Seonghwa could think of all day, was her, because if he was sure about anything about his anxious, doubtful, self-conscious existence, was that she was his reason of being.

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[justporo]

Hiiii! Could you write some dom astarion headcanons? I can't get the idea out of my head now.

You asked - I shall deliver. This turned into a one-shot though. So, I hope you'll enjoy that as well.

I... I'm not even wasting much more time talking about it, let's just get to the fun!

Tav insists on provoking Astarion, but the vampire just won't be having it.

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You) Warning: Explicit sexual content Wordcount: 2,4k

Lessons Learnt

Astarion and you had come to an agreement some time ago.

The two of you were in a happy, committed relationship – being sweet, loving, romantic, caring about each other deeply. Everything you could dream of. And let’s not forget about the less innocent aspects of you being together: Astarion knew every trick in the book, easily figuring out how to push your every button – and he enjoyed it. Being the one to make you squirm, to make you moan, cry his name in heedless pleasure.

And you were committed to help him work through his trauma and letting him explore what exactly it was he wanted for his life, being with you – and figuring out how to reclaim himself in terms of physical pleasure. Because as he had confirmed to you, he was eager to finally and completely embrace his own desires and pleasures.

So, he had proposed to you to let him be in charge, giving him a kind of control he didn’t have for the last two centuries.

You had been a bit surprised as you hadn’t considered that this might be what he would want from his regained freedom, but it made sense: for all the growth and healing he had already done, he still liked having power – and there was nothing inherently wrong with that. He liked being dominant, being the centre of attention, being the one people couldn’t rip their gaze off, being the one making people scurry to fulfil his desires.

He was not a prey animal – he was the predator.

So, of course you had agreed – quickly realising how much this arrangement played into your own hand as well: no one had ever treated you like this or given you such intense attention. And you’d come to enjoy yourself just as much as the vampire did.

But it still didn’t help you from being bent down over the kitchen table. One of Astarion’s hands pressing both of your wrists to your back while the other had your hair tied around it like a rope and pulled to make your head arch back – in a manner, that was just the right amount of painful to induce more pleasure.

“I’ve had it with you today, you insolent little thing”, Astarion exclaimed angrily and pressed his hips into your behind. You were both fully clothed, but you could feel his massive erection rub against you while he pressed you down harder on the table, causing your boobs to squish against the hard wood and making you moan in desperation.

“Don’t act like you don’t know how you got put in this position, love”, Astarion whispered while he leaned over you now. He pulled your hair to make your head turn slightly sideways so he could easily reach one of your pointy ears and whisper in it. The posture giving you another jolt of delicious friction when his cock pressed harder against your butt clad in leather pants.

“You know exactly how you rile me up when you act like this! Arching your back to make me look at your sweet little tits straining against your shirt, putting your thumb in your mouth to lick something off it, making me wish it was one of my body parts you’d let your tongue work around. And finally, brushing past me while making sure your ass has ample opportunity to rub against my crotch”, he whispers into your ear as if it was merely a sweet nothing. His breath caressing your face and making your hairs stand on end… And the way he put it into words – you were already drenched and desperate for release.

But so was he – you could feel the evidence quite clearly.

But you couldn’t help but giggle despite your dire situation, raising an eyebrow at him, grinning and using what little room for movement you had to rub your butt against him once more, making him groan immediately.

Your triumph was only short-lived when you suddenly got hauled up from the table. “That’s it, you bratty little girl, now I’m going to make you pay”, Astarion hissed as he threw you over his shoulder and immediately made his way up to the bedroom. His grip on your legs was tight – not a allowing a smidge of resistance now. You gulped and hoped that you hadn’t pushed your luck too far.

“We are going to have a little talk now, my sweet, about your naughty behaviour. And if I’m nice I might even help you out of the mess you put yourself in”, the vampire declared through gritted teeth and quickly moved up the last steps to your joint bedroom.

He threw open the door, then put you down in the middle of the room. “Undress”, he simply hissed at you while he turned around again. You obliged, your heart racing in your chest and lust pulsating between your legs.

Astarion grabbed a single chair, put it down in the middle of the room and then sat on it, legs spread, leaned forward, one of his hands braced on his knee while the other arm hung languidly over his other thigh. And that’s how he kept watching you slowly undress, not saying a word, but his red eyes boring holes into you.

You didn’t dare to make a show out of it this time.

Astarion licked his lips while he watched you hungrily, his arousal still very much obvious. When you were done you stood there completely naked with the vampire intensely staring at your naked form – just his glances making you want to squirm. But he drew out the moment – unnecessarily long for your liking.

“Now, come here and sit, pet”, he finally said, releasing you from your limbo. You walked over to him while he didn’t change anything about his posture, still staring at you and devouring you with his ruby eyes. When you were directly in front of him, you weren’t entirely sure of where exactly you were meant to sit.

But Astarion made quick work of grabbing you by the thighs and firmly placing you on one of his knees and dragging you up along his thigh – making sure to tense his muscles so you would get even more friction while grinding against his thigh. You immediately moaned loudly and threw your head back at the sensation of your core rubbing against his body. You could feel his muscles, the texture of his leather pants, your own slickness turning it into a mess quickly. Your hands had immediately went on his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself on him. And you could also feel his tension there, under your fingers. By no means were you alone in these feelings of desperate, carnal lust.

Astarion’s fingers firmly held on to your hips – so hard there were clear indents where he almost clawed at your skin to hold you down tightly.

��Don’t act coy now, Tav, go on – I’m giving you all the opportunity to writhe and rub yourself against me now”, Astarion said to you, his eyes still glowing angrily – but hunger and pleasure taking over more and more. The usage of your name suddenly turning you on more in this moment than any other pet name could have done.

You stared at him a moment longer, not exactly sure how the situation had derailed to him making you ride his thigh completely naked so quickly.

“Move!”, he snarled when you didn’t get to work. The word snapping of his tongue like a whiplash while he forcefully moved your hips to grind against his leg again, making you whimper.

You started slowly – sliding back and forth over his thigh while feeling how slippery his pant leg had gotten quickly. Your hands curled into the vampire’s shoulder muscles, earning you a single groan. But other than that, he simply kept holding onto you, enjoying the show.

“Harder!”, Astarion ordered harshly after some time and pressed you down harder with the firm grip of his hands on your hips. You gulped and obliged.

Really getting into it now: the feeling of friction and just the thought of what exactly was happening turning you feral while you gripped onto his shoulders. The vampire lifted one of his hands off your side and grabbed your chin, thumb stroking over your bottom lip. “Open up, love”, he cooed at you now to which you happily obliged. He put his thumb into your mouth and let you start to suck on it.

You really started to lose all shame as you kept grinding his leg, now moaning loudly with every move, your head rolling back and arching your back – desperately wishing for Astarion to also give some attention to your breasts that ached with arousal.

But that was exactly the wrong thing to do. His hand moved to your side again and Astarion’s grip on your hips tightened so much you weren’t able to get in even the slightest bit of movement.

“It’s not fun now, is it?”, the vampire angrily snarled at you while holding you immobile. You whimpered helplessly, overcome with lust and the desperate wish for release.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered breathlessly – your body helplessly shivering with unresolved tension.

“Promise you’ll be good and I might consider letting you have the release your craving”, Astarion whispered slowly, his eyes boring into you.

“I’ll be good, I promise”, you immediately answered, desperately wanting to please him so he might do the same for you.

“Good“, Astarion cooed and started to grin hungrily at you – in a way that made you immediately wonder if it was actually.

He lifted you up while he stood up from his seat. He walked over to your giant bed and almost threw you onto it.

As you moved to position yourself on the bed, you saw how the vampire undressed himself while looking at you. Pulling his shirt over his head, muscles tensing and softening with the movement. You hungrily licked your lips, immediately feeling the fire burning inside you again. You let your gaze wander deeper, seeing the outline of his arousal straining against his pants – and of course the slick patch you had left on his pant leg.

When he pulled his pants down and finally freed his hardness you audibly gasped – wanting him inside of you in a way that was nothing but carnal need. You’d never get used to knowing that you were the one making him this way.

Astarion prowled over to the bed, basking in your wordless admiration and eagerly staring back at your naked body – the swell of your tits and your hardened nipples, the tensed lines on your stomach, the sheen of wetness glistening between your legs.

He climbed on top of you, immediately immobilising you with his body weight. Your legs happily spread to welcome him and wrapped around his slender hips. His cock quickly found its way to your slick core and languidly created friction against it.

You moaned, your mouth falling open at the thought of how you’d finally get what you wanted.

Astarion licked his lips and grinned which bared his fangs to you. He slowly kept rolling his hips to let his hardness slide against your cunt. You let your hands start to wander over his shoulders and back.

“I know you just made a promise to me, my heart, of which I’m sure you’re eager to keep. But let’s make sure, why don’t we”, he purred and grabbed your one hand, then the other with his while using his other arm to hold himself up over you.

And with a swift movement he was holding both your wrists captive again and pushed them down on the mattress right over your head. His grip was strong, but you didn’t even want to rebel against him right now. You were mindlessly enjoying yourself being held captive by this vampire, once again realising and being grateful that he showed you time and time again how he not only embraced his own desires and pleasures, but also teaching you to embrace yours.

“I’ll be nice now and release you from your peril, my love, since I am such a gracious lover”, he promised you while looking at you through his lashes. He shifted his hips and with one swift movement filled you to the brim.

You couldn’t help yourself and cried out his name. He threw his head back and laughed seductively. “Hm yes, keep calling my name, love, make sure the whole Upper City knows who it is that makes you scream”, he whispered and started to fuck you.

The time for teasing and making each other wait was over now. He thrust into you while holding you captive, hitting deep inside of you. You writhed against him, desperately trying to get more friction while his movements grew more and more raggedly. So did his breaths as he kept staring at you losing yourself beneath him.

“Come for me, Tav”, he ordered breathlessly, and you didn’t need another word of encouragement. Just the sound of your name from his lips while his voice almost broke pushed you over the edge, your core clenching and pulsing around him hard – again and again.

You screamed his name once more while shaking with your orgasm and struggling against his hold while he followed closely behind, hoarsely groaning and still moving through your joint ecstasy.

When the fire had dwindled down to a pleasant glow and you were both just looking at each other with wide eyes and open mouths while breathing heavily, Astarion slid out of you and released you out of his grasp.

He rolled on his back and softly grabbed you to make you roll over too, so you were laying on his chest. The vampire immediately started rubbing circles on your back with one hand, while the other stroked your hair. “All good?”, he asked while cocking his head. You nodded and smiled at him in response but were just too exhausted to use your words. You wrapped your arms around him and tangled your legs with his to really snuggle up to him. Pleasant warmth filled the both of you while you kept just laying there.

“Now, have you learnt your lesson?”, Astarion asked after a while, just a tiny bit teasingly. “Hmm”, you replied “maybe I will need a refresher on that from time to time.”

Astarion laughed at that and embraced you even harder: “It would be my pleasure.”

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed, all you naughty little gremlins. Now, off I go, I have to do some very Astarion-unrelated stuff.

[queenquinzel715]

3.1 Halforc Rothwell

Wrd count 2,469

Princess (Y/n) P.O.V.

When I turned fourteen I knew things were going to change in the worst possible way. I saw the royal doctors leaving my mother's chambers, and her ladies in waiting looking down so upset. I had just turned sixteen when I got woken by my mother's closest lady in waiting telling me to come quickly. I sat with my mother for an hour when she finally let go. My father stood by the door silently crying to himself. They did actually love each other.

That night my life became hectic. I took over Queen duties for the kingdom. Which is no problem, however my father's advisors are like the devil in his ear. My father is so poor minded that the lies they tell him he believes them. I do feel bad for my father. He was just a guard when he and my mother, the princess, fell for each other. He does care for our people, he just doesn't understand how to communicate with them, so he leaves it to William. William is the head guard that is supposed to help my people when they need it, but he's just a tyrant.

Like today, William and Henry, the main advisor, are telling my father that the creatures that are coming to do trade are tricking my father. They are telling him that these creatures are raiding savages. I've heard enough from these two.

"Alright that's enough. What are your sources for all this?" I stop them just as they walk to the maps to map out an attack on the incoming ships. "My sources tell me the reason for any attacks was that the Tearings Kingdom enslaved them." I look at my father's indecisive face.

"I have insiders in the Silentdew Kingdom, Sire." Henry boosts with a mocking smile.

"I don't remember a ship leaving for that long of a voyage, so when was this?"

I'm completely ignored.

"These creatures are here simply for land. I myself have sent letters with their King, so I will not have these stories to be spread. If no problems are caused then no problems will occur. They should be docking in just three days, and we must greet them accordingly." My father takes over. He turns to me. "(Y/n) I need you to be there for their reassurance that we give faith into our new arrangements." I give my father a reassuring smile.

"I was hoping to meet them at dinner." I try to sound proper, not too obvious.

"I know, I know. I just need them to know even with your own… legacy, we are here united for good reasons." I laugh at his pausing for the right words.

What he had difficulty with is my true title. Queen General (full name). At fourteen my mother insisted my father train me in some sort of defense. What she didn't expect was for me to get completely infatuated with fighting, and well I became General after my eighteenth birthday. No one argued the title placement, because they knew I actually worked for it. Sadly I had to give that title to William last year when I turned twenty. My father told me it was time for me to settle down, so he's been finding suitors for me. Most of them did seem good on paper, so I don't fault my father on that point. It's just when they open their mouths nothing intelligent comes out just pompous showboating, or their egos get destroyed from my legacy. At least my father doesn't fight me when I tell him I won't marry them.

Besides, my biggest problem is dealing with an overly cocky William. He's been following me around assuming I'm turning the suitors away for him, because we've known each other since childhood. Granted as a child he was better to tolerate. Over the years I've learned just the type of man he's become, and the amount of female servants I've helped from his whole group. My mother taught me very early that I can't stop men like that, so that's why the only females that work in my castle are my own close ladies. I have made an example of what happens when I catch you in certain acts which helped the women in the town as well. Sadly mother was right. That's why I pray to her that I'm right with these creatures that come here, they docked yesterday. Tomorrow I will actually meet their leader, and have dinner.

This morning I'm woken up by my ladies to get ready for the creature's arrival. They should be here by midday, and by then I should have my nerves somewhat controlled. Which doesn't seem fruitful when the laces of my dress are being pulled back to cut my breathing off. I wasn't used to these formal dresses, and hair styling anymore. I mostly stayed in work dresses, and kept my hair braided to the side. I look like my mother with my hair like this, and she'd love this.

I walked down the main steps as the gates opened for three mountainous horses carrying orcs. I come to a stop in the only open place next to my father. Of course it's next to William. I keep myself looking at the gorgeous horses, but I'm stuck on the short haired one with a scruff-like beard. His yellow eyes scan the crowd, they seem to shine with curiosity as he sees something new.

"I like your hair this way, Princess." William takes me away from the orc. "I wanted to surprise you, but Friday I'm telling your father about us." I feel his hand move along my arm. "I can't let you keep this charade of the suitors." The entire feeling from him makes me nervous, causing me to move away immediately.

I hear him chuckling as I step to my father as he steps closer with the orcs following. Once I take a deep breath I realize I didn't hold my composure when my face relaxes. My father introduces me to Lord Rothwell and his guards. I look up at him in amazement as I outstretch my hand.

"Welcome Sir Rothwell." I offer him my hand.

"I'm very happy to be here, My Lady." His smile brings his tusk to a better view as he brings my hand to meet his lips, letting me feel just how smooth his tusks are.

Throughout the day, we are in the meeting hall going over the maps showing them their lands, and discussing laws. I was surprised when we have similar laws, granted they had more for the different creatures, which they gave us their law books.

Once dinner is served, it's like we have all known each other for years with the laughter coming from the dining hall. I sit left of my father as Rothwell sits across from me. I could listen to him talk about his people all night. He talks with such passion, the way his eyes light up when he speaks of certain people, well creatures.

"I'm glad we are on the same page about this settlement." I'm father raises his cup to cheer.

"Yes, I like how we are using the river as a boundary. It is very clever. That way no one can say they don't know where they are going." He cheers with my father.

"That was (y/n)'s idea. I swear if you spend a day with her you'd be amazed with what she comes up with." Father laughs as he shakes my shoulder making my food fall off my spoon.

"I'd love to spend a day with you." Rothwell looks me in the eyes as he says this, his voice makes my ankles lock together on their own.

"Sir Rothwell, do you hope this is a permanent settlement or just for the resources?" I generally want to know for my own knowledge and my kingdom's.

"Completely permanent, Princess." He smirks once responded.

My father grabs Rothwell's attention for some battle stories, but William decides now will be best to slide into the seat next to mine. I roll my eyes at his drunken smile.

"Father?" I try to properly get his attention.

"I was thinking about sunset for our ceremony." William begins. "The windows in the church shine perfectly at that time." He reaches for my piece of hair, but I move back.

I look back to my father to see him still talking, but Rothwell is eyeing William with hard eyes. William leans closer to continue his wedding talk, trying to touch me, making me grip my eating knife. He goes to reach for me again, and I snap. I push him back with my knife pointed at his lower rib. He drops his cup, leaving the wine to puddle the floor, and raises his hands. I slightly lean forward with my eyes locked on his terror filled ones.

"I've tolerated you all day, with your wedding bullshit talk, and you trying to touch me." He goes to speak, but me pushing the knife slightly further makes him stop. "If you so much as think of coming near me in the next couple of days. I swear the moment my eyes land on you I will cut your ribs out right there. Am I understood?" I sternly finish with a last push of the knife.

"Yes, Princess. I'm terribly sorry I won't bother you again." He rushes out his apologies as he nods quickly.

I raise my knife to the side for him to shakily run to the doors of the dining hall. Everyone is still silent as I turn back to my food. As I bite into my food I look up to Rothwell slightly biting his lower lip. I can feel my neck up to my face get hot as I look back down to my plate. Everyone starts to mumble about me as they get back to dinner.

"Daughter, must you embarrass the poor boy." Father laughs as he fills my cup with wine.

"Yes I must. Animals like him don't listen to normal talk, so I must get straight to the point." I take a big gulp of my wine as I stand. "Well goodnight father, enjoy your night." I kiss my father on the forehead. "Please don't get him completely gone. I'd like him to be somewhat functional." I laugh with Rothwell as the others raise their cups to me.

I walk to my chambers with an orc on my mind, and how my mother would be shocked that this is who I'm thinking about. Once in my chambers I change into my night dress getting comfortable as the night bonfire is lit in town Square. I lean against the balcony door crossing my arms at William's nonsense. I'm brought out of my thoughts as a crowd forms, and William steps through along with Rothwell. I could finally see that Rothwell is three feet taller than William, and is much bigger as well. The small group that came with Rothwell cheers for Rothwell as the fight starts. I watch as Rothwell practically throws William like a child around the circle. William slides along the ground making me laugh, and Rothwell raises his arms as he roars in celebration with his men. One of the creature men point up toward me, making him look up at me. I give him a sarcastic clap, but inside I want to scream for him. His roar was much louder as his men crowd him like he won something. William steps back to him in a drunken like sway, maybe it's a painful sway. Rothwell swats the air telling him he's done, but William says something that's obviously antagonizing. Rothwell actually throws him this time, but I feel that still wasn't his full strength. I watch William use his horse to stand. Rothwell walks away with his group of men as my men get back to work on the weapons. William however takes his sword from the sheath he keeps on his horse, and runs toward Rothwell with the sword high in the air. I grab a book that I left on the balcony, and throw it at Rothwell. It hits one of his men, making him turn to me. I just point at William. I quickly run down the stairs as the yelling echoes off the walls. They grow louder as I get to the Town Square. I signal to the cannon gunners to shoot a cannon. My men stop, and stand to attention. The creatures slowly stand to their feet. I step calmly through the sea of men to the ones that are still gripping onto each other. I take the sword of one of the closest men.

"Enough!" I use the sword to push William back.

Once he sees it's me he falls to his knees.

"Meeting hall, NOW!" My voice booms off the walls.

As I follow the two men into the hall my father is standing there with an angry expression. As I walk around them I throw the sword into a table. I look at the marks William somehow got on Rothwell with worry, but when I look at how William looks I couldn't hold my smirk.

"I don't mind when you men fight for show or for your own amusement. However I will not tolerate you having war IN THE MIDDLE OF MY KINGDOM!" My father yells out like he never has before. "Not only did you want to spar with an orc, you tried to strike an unarmed man in the back." My father speaks in shame at William. "Lets not begin to discuss what happened at dinner with my daughter." He turns to me. "Why was he threatened anyway?"

"Well throughout the day he has tried grabbing me, telling me that I am to marry him, and how the suitors I've declined were for his benefit." I tell my father honestly.

While I explain to my father Rothwell snaps his head to William like he actually wants to kill him.

"Guards!" Father suddenly yells, making me jump in surprise. "Lock William in the tunnels until I can deal with him in the morning." William is pleading as he is being pulled out once he's gone father sits with a deep sigh. "I should've done that years ago." He looks up at me as he rests his head on his fingertips looking between me and Rothwell. "Hmm well. Should we start the courting process?" He asks Rothwell with a no tolerance voice.

"Yes." Is all Rothwell says with a last look at me before storming out.

"Courting process?" I question my father.

He just dismisses me to bed, and tells me to enjoy the gifts.

[sugudoe]

──── .𖥔˚ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, toji ⋆.˚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you had been taught that everything that happens, is the best it could be. meeting fushiguro toji was the second highlight of your life, losing him was your lowest point. you kept strong for your children for ten years, until he suddenly comes back — and maybe, that’s the best bittersweet gift life can give you, as an apology for the past.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i cried lots and lots while writing this, hope you all have fun, cause i didn’t. divider.

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: angst with a bit of fluff / domestic violence (not from toji) / fem!reader / curse!au / mention and description of blood, death, guns / sexual innuendo / foul language / smoking / slightly ooc!toji and ooc!megumi (they cry) / reader is tsumiki’s mom / english is not my first language.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k

It could be said that life had a wicked way of granting you wishes and getting them back, but you had always been so optimistic, so satisfied with whatever was throw your way. Never understanding that this force of nature had been either protecting you, or making you go the right path. It took some time, turbulences, weakness, but you followed your instincts, and eventually, your heart.

You had a daughter of your own with your ex husband, Hasuko, who had been nothing but a terrible man. You could handle the verbal abuse towards you, but when he set his eyes on Tsumiki and started to be verbally aggressive to her, you knew it was time to step up.

The little baby had just turned eight months, and you were alone in this world with her lovely presence and the tempestuous personality of Hasuko — he was rude and borderline dangerous, his jealousy had made you leave your old life behind, so you were dependent on him.

Everyday, you kept stealing from his wallet whenever he went to sleep or got drunk, he was a terrible gambler and never suspected, no matter the amount you took, but you still had care, and only when Tsumiki was almost two, you managed to scape to a crappy hotel room, far away enough from the putrid smell of your husband and his hard hand.

It was by the moon light and weirdly looking hotel’s pool you met a man offering you a cigarette. It’s all he did, sitting in a sun chair by your side, and giving you the white stick you gracefully took it, thanking him with barely a whisper.

“You’re A7, right?” He wondered, and it takes you by surprise and makes you uneven how he knows your room. “Don’t worry, I only know because I’m A14, right in front of you. That baby of yours kept crying last night and today all day, that’s why I’m giving you the cigarettes, you must be tired.”

“I’m sorry, she’s just in a new place, we weren’t used to getting out of the house.” You take a puff of the cigarette, while your mind screams at you to shut up.

“May I take a guess?” The man holds his tie before undoing it. You hesitantly nod. “You are running away. By the purple on your cheeks and the marks on your neck, I’d say from your husband.” You stare at your bruised knuckles to avoid his stare. “Also can see you can fight, good. How did you left him?”

“In the middle of the night…” Your voice is cracking before you gulp the tears away. “I put her in the car, when I got back in the house for our things he was awake.” You stare at the unknown male. “I might have punched him a few times, and hit him with a pan. I don’t know. He tried to go to her, and I acted on impulse.”

“Nothing is more powerful than a mother’s love or rage, and sometimes both can create a terrible chaotic fusion for the receiver of it.” You agree to his words by again smoking. “Let me tell you something, the same shit happened to me, I was the child in the situation. I know you don’t know me, but I can help you, let me help you, like a stranger did with my mom many years ago.”

That was the day you met Shiu Kong, and that was the time your life became better, even if just for some years, you owned Shiu everything — your job as his assistant, the house you bought for your daughter and you, and most importantly, that you met Fushiguro Toji through him.

And how wonderful grateful you had been for your friend and Toji, had they never crossed your life, you had no ideia what would you be like right now, it’s not something you would like to know or keep wasting time thinking about. You see the present and you love it, as the gift life has been giving you since the day you left Hasuko behind.

The man tracked you down once, after you send him the divorce papers months later, he found you in a matter of weeks. Knocking at your door, screaming insults in that tone you knew was carried with lots of alcohol and as you held your daughter with all your strength, Toji happened to be at your house, getting details about his next mission, and he walked calmly to the entrance. You didn’t heard much, the only sound was the constant blood flowing through your veins in inhuman speed, scaring you terribly. But the man returned — ripped knuckles painted red, satisfying smirk and your papers signed with a trembling signature and blood prints.

“It’s alright. He is not coming back.” Was all Toji said before grabbing your anxious self to his arms, Tsumiki sleeping peacefully on top of you. “You can rest now.”

After two months, Toji learned more about you, and specially your hate for gambling.

“It’s something my ex would do all the time, Shiu used to as well, but I stopped him. That’s how he has more money nowadays, and so do I, because my salary increased.” You tell Toji under the kitchen orange light, preparing salmon with veggies for dinner. You add a pinch of salt before turning to face him, in his comically large sweater. “You could do much more, Toji, much better.”

His past it’s not a secret he tried to keep from you, he just never said anything because you haven’t asked. The truth of his wife passing and his baby of one year was something you learned when Shiu, always the babysitter, begged you to take care of Megumi earlier that day, which prompted you to this conversation, he had to be better for his son.

You did babysat happily and set both babies in your living room, playing games, mumbling gibberish, painting your walls. You had been so broken by Hasuko, his rage to Tsumiki made you allow her to be a child freely now, and children get messy, and this mess becomes a memoir.

When Toji came to pick his son up, he was baffled at the crayons Megumi was holding, and the fact you were laughing and encouraging his antics in your perfect cream wall. But he dared not to complain, for inside your eyes he saw that sparkle he noticed missing the first time he saw you. How dull you had been in the beginning, and now you were getting happy and safe. He couldn’t tell you no in that moment, couldn’t waste his money like he intended to, Toji trusted you and your judgment more than he trusted himself.

“Alright.” He agrees while getting up and starting to mash the potatoes. “I’ll stop gambling under one condition: go out with me. Let me do something more productive with the money.”

And you say yes, hesitantly of course, you still have deeply unseen scars forged by the past. But when you steal a glance at Toji, sitting in your dinning table, feeding his baby while you feed yours, you can’t help but allow the nerves to dissipate just a little.

It’s enough to stop the trembling of your fingers when he takes you to a fancy restaurant, wearing a black silk shirt you could guess Shiu made him buy that day, same as he did with you and the equal black silk dress you are wearing. You both smile in acknowledgment, but say nothing of it, except when Toji starts to compliment you, and in the middle of your crimson cheeks and biting your red tinted lips, like a teenager, you thank him.

Is easy to be with Toji anywhere, but in that formal space the two of you are left uncomfortable, specially while reading the menu and not understanding the meaning of anything, Toji cracks a joke about the restaurant name that makes you snort loud. The male smirks proudly.

“Would you think I’m an asshole if I say we should leave here and go eat at this small diner I know?” He asks.

“No, I would thank you very much.” Inching your face closer to his, you answered quietly.

Toji gets up and moves your way, standing you his hand, not knowing that the moment yours would come in contact, it would fix perfectly, electrically enough to shake something in both of your core. The two of you leave with contempt smiles, reaching the diner later that night and eating the most amazing hamburger you’ve had.

Life with Fushiguro Toji is meant to be, you could say. Like finding the final piece of your most difficult puzzle, and your life, you could assume, was an incredibly detailed one. But the man fit in it so well, right by the center, you wonder if he was always meant to be yours, and you already now the answer.

It clicks in the male as well how much you mean to him, so it takes no one by surprise how he has you in a court, a year later, marrying him with Shiu as a crying witness and your babies by your side. And in that same day, you both officially adopt the other’s child.

It’s how it was always meant to be, the domesticated feeling of being happy and secure, and fully loved to an extent no other heart could catch, it’s what you all deserve. Your little family.

Unfortunately, happiness last for only four more years. It’s all life give to you, this less than a decade love that you will never forget, every minimal detail is entangled in your memories, all painted by your lover, with his gentle and yet brutal hands. You still remember how the end began, it was with Toji coming home stressed, with blood covering his whole body — he had been in a fight.

“I fucked up.” It’s the first thing he blurted when he comes your way, embracing you quickly. “We have to leave, they are coming for us. For our son.”

The drop of your heart is a feeling you constantly had after that day, but at that time, it was just a sample of the biggest pain you would ever feel. What Toji meant was a secret he told you in the beginning, when he was a dumb young man, recently widowed and with no ideia for how to care for a baby he did the unthinkable, although a part of him imagined he was doing what was right — he sold his son for the Zen’in, his old clan.

“They have a tracker, is a boy with the technique of tracking anything he wants. With our shared blood, he can catch us, but if we move away from Tokyo his power might not work.” Toji cautioned the options with you that night, while you both are sitting by the dinner table, your kids are sleeping in their shared bedroom. “We can go to Korea with the help of Shiu, but I fear it’ll still be too close.”

“Do we have money for this, Toji?” Is all you ask, knowing for a fact the answer won’t be positive. Toji stopped the hit man job after one year married, deciding to work as a mechanic in the small town you both moved to. He signs no with his head, and you feel like crying rivers.

“I can ask Shiu.” Toji whispers. “One last job, good payment, enough to leave it all behind.”

It’s like a dejavu feeling, you wished you had payed more attention to the uneasiness of that sentence, as a warning of life. You didn’t like his job, but you worked in the same bloodied industry not long ago, so you nod, scared and shaking. You don’t want him to taint his soul anymore, but it’s the only way to save your son.

You both go to sleep hugging each-other that night, and every other. All minimal spare moments are with family, cherishing what you have, giving him strength to fight again and for you to not crumble in front of everyone. But you desperately should’ve had, maybe he would’ve found another job, another way.

Is the day before he leaves, before you and the kids leave the house as well and move to an apartment complex in the city, that way Megumi’s smell wont be easily noticed, you both hope.

Toji’s face is kissed by the dining area light, his attention is on your son and his yapping about his dogs — the reason for the Zen’in clan to be coming your way. Megumi is on the tracks to become someone powerful, and they want to tear your boy down piece by piece, removing all the love and protection you gave to transform him into something more cold and brutal.

Toji’s eyes are glossy with the tears of guilt, of despair towards his younger self, so stupid, so young and unprepared. If he knew, if he had waited — the deal was done by the same time you’ve met Shiu. His head is spiraling with the many “ifs” and possibilities. Toji breaks down crying for the first time in his life, taking everyone by surprise.

“Papa.” Gumi’s infant voice is accompanied by your husband’s hiccups. “Papa, I love you so much, don’t cry.”

“I love you too, Megumi. I love all of you, with all of my heart. I’m sorry.” He confess the last towards you. Toji is desperate, feeling he ruined your whole lives, and maybe he did, but you don’t love him any less.

That night, your whole family is together in your bedroom, all sleeping in your large bed, unknown to all of you that would be the last time. Although you and Toji could feel in your hearts. He held you and the babies all on top of his large chest, hoping that he could move away in that moment, to take your pain and sorrows away.

You couldn’t find yourself the opening to cry in his presence. So you didn’t, you hold the tears behind you eyes and your hiccups in your throat as much as you could. In front of your new apartment, you kissed him goodbye with dry lips and he held you enough to bruise your waist, but it didn’t hurt.

“Please, come back for me.” You beg when you two separate, Shiu is in the background in the van, equally sad face. “Both of you. Come back home, and we will be fine. It’s just a small job.”

You don’t know, in fact, he didn’t told you. Toji just said the amount of money, and to not worry your pretty head. You trust him, dumbly. If you knew you would have stopped him.

“I’ll always love you. Thank you for this beautiful family, for making me a better man, for becoming my wife, the mother of our children. I love you in every life possible.” It was like he knew, and so he departs from your hug with a last long kiss and waved goodbye to the kids in the balcony, he goes for the van and stares at you, until he is gone.

He is gone.

“He is gone.” Is what Shiu whisper to you, weeks later, hands keeping your balance when you fall down on your knees. Your hands go straight to your belly, where the small baby bump is forming. “He got the money, so you can leave at any time now.”

You stare at Shiu as if he had grow two more heads.

“Y/n, you have to leave, angel. It’s what you were supposed to do, that’s the plan.”

“No! The plan was for him to come back and we move together. I can’t be without him, Shiu. I can’t.” You sob more and more on his shoulders, not noticing the two shadows in the children’s room, ears glued to the door, hearing it all.

When you finally go to your bed, sleeping with the scent of Toji’s pillow, you sense the bed dipping, opening your eyes you foolish hoped it was Toji, but you see someone identical, younger. Megumi, Tsumiki and you all cuddle in that bed, like that last night. You all cry silently, hoping individually for it all to be a terrible nightmare, and for when the day comes Toji be there, by the kitchen making pancakes with fruit smiles — what you met, in fact, is the person who killed your husband, Gojo Satoru.

You know everything about him and his technique that works as a protection barrier, but that doesn’t stop you from shooting him multiple times in the alley by your apartment — and he lets you, that angers you more. He is just a boy, you can see, but he killed Toji.

“Are you done?” The smoke coming from the gun touched your face when Satoru asks, a bit annoyed, a bit sad. “I’m here because your husband asked me to.”

“Stop lying!” You snap through gritted teeth.

“I’m not lying, please, let me tell you everything.” Satoru begs. You’re tired and sad, so you let him come inside, the gun although empty and useless, stays in your hand.

Gojo starts to explain the whole story while you serve him milk tea with honey, his hands are trembling as much as yours, you notice when he grabs the cup.

“Your husband got involved in the killing of a young girl, in the Jujutsu world, she was an important vessel, there was a large quantity of money for her head. My job was to protect her, but I failed. He finished his job, he almost killed me.” Gojo sips the tea before clenching his jaw, and adding more honey to it. “I went searching for him after healing myself, and…” He hesitated “… his last words was for me to help his family. I shouldn’t, but something tugged me here. So you might never forgive me, and I’m fine with that, but let me do what he asked, you don’t even have to see me, I’ll just give you money and protection.”

“He asked you to save our son from the Zen’in?” He nods. “I hate you, Gojo Satoru, for taking away my husband from me. But i accept your help, just don’t let them fuckers near my son.”

Gojo uplifted your life in a precisely and quickly way. First, he moved your family from that crappy apartment to one in a penthouse with full security, the kids were enrolled in a private school with a driver to always take them everywhere needed, specially Megumi. All was taken care for them, the price the Zen’in paid for your son, was given back by you, through the money your husband won before his death. That didn’t stoped them from trying to get your family, some ways more violent than others, but unlike Gojo, they weren’t bulletproof.

Soon, your name started to grow in the Jujutsu World. The wife of Toji, the human that kills sorceress. Everyone avoids your way and your aim, always hitting your target. That’s how you spend your time, after all. Deciding to take after your husband, but instead of killing innocents (something you don’t know you could ever forgive him, after learning Riko’s history), you track down what could be called the bad guys — sorceress that went bad, man who abuse their partners and children. Anyone who needs a cleanse, comes for you.

Gojo doesn’t aprove of it, but he neves dare to complain to you, he thinks you are strong enough to one day be capable of killing him. It’s in your eyes, the dread and hate you have for him. Your son and daughter don’t know this little secret of your job or what he did to their father, is a promise you both agreed on. Their memories aren’t stained by blood, and you may hate how much Tsumiki loves Gojo or Megumi fails to hides his adoration, but it is for the best.

Gojo saved you.

Ten years later, the world collapses, beginning in Shibuya. You weren’t a Jujutsu Sorcerer, through rectangle glasses gifted by Satoru you could see the curses, but that was not your line of job, never would’ve been. You were terribly anxious in your house, watching at the television, with Tsumiki and Fumiko, by your side. Your phone rings somewhere, your youngest daughter moves to get it before giving it to you.

“It’s Megs.” Fumiko muttered.

“Baby, talk to me.” You commanded to the phone, getting up from the table and moving to your car keys, already leaving the apartment. Your daughters coming behind, you knew they should stay, but they were stubborn, like their father. “Megumi?”

“Mom, Gojo… He is sealed.” Megumi cried on the phone, making your heart break more and more. “Please, I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t die, love. I’m coming already.” The car ignited your answer, you pass the phone to Tsumiki before you are racing the streets. You couldn’t tell earlier if it was luck or not to be living near Shibuya in that moment, but now you knew, you were exactly where you were meant to be. “Where are you, baby?”

“I’m hiding from this guy, I’m sending the location.” Is silent before he speaks again.” I… I can’t see his face, there is too much blood on my eyes.” You whimper at this. “Mom, there is no cursed energy in him, but he is so strong. He beat Nanami and a curse with volcano head and…”

“What? And what, Megs?” You panicked at his sudden silence, you are just some blocks away from his location.

“He’s here.” Then is silence.

The last time you prayed was years ago, the night you were told of the death of your husband. Your hands were tangled enough that no one could separate them, and your words of pleas and begs could shake any mountains out of earth. Today, though, you don’t have time to get on your knees and beg any deity for help. You only have the guns on your car, and your daughters by your side.

“You both stay here.” You ordered while parking the car in a dark alley. “If a curse or that man comes, Tsumiki you drive away, hear me?” The girl nods. “I love you both.”

You leave the car with fast steps towards the building, but before you can even enter, someone jumps from the windows in the building behind you, turning quick, you catch your son jumping in the roof of your car, before running your way.

“HE’S COMING.” Megumi screams, blood that falls from his head go inside his mouth, making him choke before falling in your arms. The man, you soon see, falls a second later. “Mom, please stay behind me.”

Your poor baby is weak, with his trembling figure, he has lost a lot of blood, you can’t let him fight alone — you didn’t came here for nothing, after all. You sigh, grabbing Megumi’s gaze, a sweet smile is all you give him.

“I’ll get his attention, you run to the car.” You can sense the protest coming, but a slight change in your eyes makes Megumi be quiet and nod.

The man, you stare at him, is creeping in the shadows of the buildings, moonlight only on his back, hiding his face away from you. That’s not what matter, but the fact he is casually leaning on your car, where your daughters are, that pisses you off. He knows they are there, he is taunting you to try anything, like a predador — he can either bite your neck off, or your pups. And you can’t shoot him either, afraid that you might hurt Tsumiki or Fumiko.

With hands empty of guns, you walk, because you know that’s what he wants, the thrill of coming your way. Your son is far away when the man moves. Is a second, and he is in front of you, his hands reaching for a punch in your abdomen before his full black eyes catch yours, a second later, turning dark blue. He doesn’t punch you, but Toji takes your breath away.

Toji. It’s been some time since you said his name, even in your mind. The man is always there, much like your wedding ring is always on your finger, but you don’t say his name for the fear it might burn in your heart or tongue. You wonder if this is all real, is it’s really him, but your questions receive their answers when he moves back, hands never touching you.

There is confusion in his face, at the same time, you catch pain in it — a perfect mirror of your own expression, you could say. This time, you move towards him quicker, before jumping to his arms, and the way he holds you back tells you everything you need to know, that your husband is here, by some miracle or prayed answered, Toji exists in this moment.

The tears are falling from your face in the same chaotic way they did the day you found he was dead, but this time a small smile is present. Toji puts you down, but his hug only deepens.

“You’re here.” You cried in his arms before leaving it for an instant, raising your hands to hold his pretty face, although numb in his eyes, he was smiling through his own tears. “You’re not- - not exactly you, huh.”

“No, baby. I’m not.” His hoarse voice has your legs shaking. Gods, you missed him so much, but you were so happy that it was just like you remembered, ten years would never make you forget him. “I’m sorry I took so long to come back, that I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“It’s okay, my love. You are here again.” It’s instant, and you’re kissing him, much like the last time, your dry lips are mesmerized by him, and your brain gets foggy by his presence, his scent.

“MOM?!” A shout comes from behind Toji, making you both separate. Megumi is by your car, your daughters out of the vehicle, all with shocked expressions that make you quietly giggle.

“Is it them?” Toji catch’s you attention, he hasn’t turned around yet, you nod and he gulps. “I - - I didn’t knew it was him, I would never hurt him.”

“I know.” You grab his hand, making him follow you to your children. When his face gets light up by the moon, you don’t move more before Megumi and Tsumiki are jumping in his arms, loud hiccups escaping their throats, while the trio melts into hugs. You stare fondly at the scene before feeling a pull on your jacket, and grabbing the little hand you walk closer. “Love, there is someone you should meet.” Your oldests step back, allowing Fumiko to be presented. “You didn’t know back then, but this is Fumiko, our daughter.”

Toji descends to his knee gracefully, more tears coming from his eyes. The man open his arms, and Fumiko stares at you, wondering, before you even finish your nod, she is already on his embrace, Toji kisses her forehead, moving up and allowing once again for his other children to hug him.

“I’m so sorry I missed all of you growing up. I was trying to keep you all safe, and I’m happy you are now.” Toji wailed, staring at them before at you, in front of him, kissing his lips once again.

“We are fine, my love. There is no Zen’in, the Gojo boy helped us.” He nods at you, before staring at his family. How things should be.

You sense your heartbreaking like that day of the mission, when the gears of destiny started to move against your favor, and you know in that moment, he can’t be here forever — his soul is not present anymore, it’s only a gift of life to repair all the pain it has given you. Toji hears your hiccups, and he nods in understand. Ten years away, and he still knows you better than anyone.

Putting Fumiko down, he kisses the children foreheads, before a hug with all of you.

“I want you all to know, I’m proud of you. No matter what you do, your father loves you endless. This family is my heaven, and I’m happy to have this chance of goodbye.”

“Go to the car, I’ll be right back, okay?” The kids nod at you, individually hugging their dad one more time before going inside the vehicle.

You and your husband move towards the building, the door closes, and soon he has you cornered, attacking your lips with a much needed kiss than before. You answer fast, letting his hands roam your body, much like yours — you missed all of him terribly, and this was your hope of engraving Toji in your dna, for those future nights, yet alone.

Toji takes you there, against that door, like a madman, you let him because you wanted it as much as him. How badly had you missed being touched by your husband, no pain in the world could compare to the emptiness of having all this love to give, and nowhere to empty it. But you did it now, showering him with the ten years of hidden affection. He devoured your attention.

It’s much later when you both are dressed again, none of you want to knowledge the miserable truth that he has to go. You catch his shaking hands and sweat in his head, it’s a sign he can’t be in here anymore.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” You whispered into his empty chest, no beating heart matching your frantic one, “Nor do I think I’ll ever do so.”

“Good.” Toji exclaimed. “Really good, ‘cause I plan on seeing you in the afterlife, and I’m not letting you go anywhere ever again.” He leave kisses on your head before sighing.

“You really have to go?” Is a silent cry in a question. You stare up at his blue eyes, empty of brightness and yet full of love. “We could find a way to make you stay.”

“There isn’t, doll. This is all we have, and it was so worthy. Seeing you again, so pretty, so mine, our babies all grown as well.” Toji lick his lips. “I wish we had another chance, but as I said before, on our last day, I love you in every possible life.”

“I love you as well, in this life, in the next as well. We will see each other again.” He nods at your words. “We are safe, no need to worry, just take your alone time in the afterlife, because as soon as I get there, you are all mine.”

“I can’t wait.” Toji kisses you one more time, before hugging you tight and moving away slowly, walking backwards so his attention is all on you. “Promise me you won’t be going there too soon, like I did. Be here for our babies, okay? I’ll always be waiting.”

“I promise, my love.”

Toji grabs a metal pipe from a nearby table, and you know what he is going to do. He waved at you goodbye before going more deeper in the room, to the shadows away from you. The sound of skin ripping makes your cries louder, and you catch yourself following him, trying to make it stop — just one more minute, one more kiss.

You reach the body, and it’s not him. Although, a breeze whispers into your skin, like soft kisses to your tears, you smile through the pain. He is gone, but he was here, his love is all over you. He is gone, but he is waiting for you somewhere, loving you endlessly, through time and space and the afterlife, forever.

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[togrowoldinv]

Worth the Wait

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

When Wanda calls you after five years of no contact, you go to her house to talk to her. Some old (and some new) feelings come to light

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, mommy kink, oral (R and W receiving), fingering

Note: Enjoy!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Wanda was a constant in your life until one day she wasn’t. It’s the classic story that is as old as time. She met someone and went off to start a family.

You tried not to let the distance between you two bother you, but deep down in your core it did.

Wanda had always been your friend, your shoulder to cry on, and sometimes even your release for when you both needed to just let loose. You didn’t mean to get attached to her, not really, but she was so beautiful.

Five years have passed since you last saw Wanda. So, when she called you today you didn’t know what to say. Wanda asked you to come to her home and that she needed you. For no reason other than the fact that you have feelings for her still, you drove a few hours to her house.

You stand outside now, ready to knock on the door. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“Y/n!” Wanda says when she opens the door. “Thank you for coming.”

She throws herself into your arms and hugs you. You’re taken aback but you wrap your arms around her waist eventually. You follow her inside once the hug is over.

“What’s going on, Wanda?” You ask her.

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you about some things that have happened,” Wanda says. “Please sit. I’ll get you a drink.”

You nod and sit on the couch to wait for Wanda. You notice the photos on the bookshelves that line the living room. Not one has Wanda’s husband in it.

“Hope you still like white wine,” Wanda says as she walks back into the living room.

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Wanda sits a few feet from you, careful not to be too close. You take a sip of the wine. It’s decent, but you’re too confused by this interaction to really care.

“So, I’ll just come right out and say it,” Wanda begins. “Vision and I got a divorce.”

You try not to physically react to her news. And keep your voice steady as you speak.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. That must be hard,” you say.

“It hasn’t been the easiest thing, but it’s better than how our marriage was going,” Wanda explains. There’s a hint of sadness to her voice but she seems otherwise content. “The boys are okay. They’re adjusting to the split custody.”

“May I ask why you guys called it quits?” You ask. “Only if you want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, you can ask,” Wanda says. “I guess we just weren’t in the same place in life. He was working a lot and I wanted to have more kids. It just wasn’t possible for us to get through a day without yelling at each other and ruining everything we built.”

You nod along with her words. All of these things are what you worried about happening to Wanda. You knew she settled back when she got married and started a family. Of course, you never told her that though.

“And I think that I just always wanted something different,” Wanda admits. She moves half an inch closer to you. A small amount, but you notice.

“So you’re happy now?” You ask her.

“I think I’m on my way to being happy, yes,” Wanda says. “Y/n, I’m really sorry I lost touch with you.”

“It happens.” You shrug. “You had a whole family to tend to.”

“It’s no excuse,” Wanda says. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah, always.”

Wanda now makes a more pronounced move towards you and she sits right against you. Her thigh brushes yours. She looks deeply into your eyes.

“I pushed you away because I think I was in love with you,” Wanda says.

“Oh, Wanda, I-“

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” she says quickly. “I just- I wanted you to know.”

You shake your head. You don’t want her to change the subject. Instead, your body moves on instinct and you place your hand on her face.

“Wanda,” you whisper. “I was in love with you too.”

She gasps just a little bit and you take the opportunity to lean in and kiss her lips. It’s soft at first, slow and gentle as you remember the feeling of her lips on yours.

“Fuck, I need you,” Wanda mumbles against your lips. “I miss the way you used to touch me.”

“Yeah?” You ask. “Wanda, when’s the last time someone touched you properly?”

“The last time you did, baby,” Wanda says. “No one ever touches mommy the right way.”

Her words go straight to your core and you ache for her. Some things never change. You kiss her again. This time with all the fervency you can muster.

Your hands find their way under her shirt and you lift it over her head. Pushing Wanda back onto the couch, you get to work kissing down her neck. Wanda lets out beautiful sounds as you do so.

“God, I missed you,” Wanda says. “I want you to fuck me, baby.”

“I will, mommy,” you tell her.

You move your focus to her breasts. They’ve gotten bigger since you last had sex with her. Your fingers take on one nipple as your mouth plays with the other.

“Suck on them,” Wanda says. She pulls your head further into her. You do as she says.

When she starts getting sensitive, she whimpers at your every suckle.

“Y/n, fuck, that feels so good,” Wanda moans.

Eventually, you move down her body and slip her pants off. She’s not wearing any underwear, so you dive into her. You lick a long stripe up her wet pussy. Wanda shivers at the feeling.

“Oh, I’ve missed this. All for me,” you say before you lick at her again.

“All for you, sweetheart,” Wanda says.

You take her clit in your mouth and use your fingers to make her feel good. Wanda moans as you move your fingers in and out of her.

“I’m going to come,” Wanda says, her head thrown back in pleasure.

You pick up the pace and Wanda coats your fingers with cum. Letting her body relax, you slowly stop your movements.

When you sit up, you bring your fingers to Wanda’s mouth.

“I know you want to suck on them, Mommy,” you say.

Wanda’s mouth opens in shock but also to suck your fingers. She takes her time licking every digit clean. You feel heat pooling in your underwear at the sight.

“It’s your turn,” Wanda says.

She kisses you and practically rips your clothes off. You let her take control. Wanda lays back and pulls your hips to position your center over her face.

She licks you as her hands grip your ass. You move your hips at a quick pace to fuck yourself with her tongue.

“Wanda,” you gasp out as you get close.

“Mmm,” she hums against you, perfectly content.

You come hard against her and she cleans you up. Wanda moves back to an upright position and pulls you into her lap. She kisses you and runs her tongue along yours.

“You’ve always had my heart and my body,” Wanda says. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

“We have each other now, Wanda,” you say.

“I love you,” she says.

“I love you too.”

You kiss her lips and you both are ready to taste each other again.

From that day forward, Wanda is a constant in your life again. And so are her two boys. Sometimes love just takes its sweet time, but Wanda was well worth the wait.

[slayfics]

Hii babes can I get a Katsuki comforts a self-conscious reader if you can do plus size that’s amazing if not it’s okay thehe

Katsuki explodes your insecurities.

800 words

You let out a heavy sigh as you got ready, brushing your hair in the mirror. Every so often you’d have one of those days where your hair looked hideous no matter what you did with it.

That was just something everyone dealt with from time to time, and usually you could brush it off and keep moving. However, today wasn’t proving to be so kind.

The longer you messed with your hair in the mirror, the more you felt dissatisfied with your appearance. Today all your flaws seemed to be screaming out at you.

You took a deep breath and did your best to swallow your insecurities. You couldn’t just shy away from today’s responsibilities and hide away because you felt unattractive. Yet, a sting hit your eyes as you continued your morning routine.

“The hell is that look for?” Katsuki asked, leaning on the doorframe of the restroom.

You jumped by his sudden appearance, “Nothing- just getting ready,” you lied.

Katsuki clicked his tongue at you, “Why do you even bother lying to me. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he demanded.

You sighed, setting down your brush. How could you even begin to explain that you felt hideous to your extremely attractive chiseled by the gods boyfriend? Surely, that’s not a feeling he could relate to.

“Just not feeling well today,” you said, only a half lie this time.

“Mmm, your nose isn't running- and you look fine so, what do you mean?” He questioned further.

“But I don’t look fine!” You snapped, regretting it the instant you said it.

“Hah?! Course you do! The fuck you talking about??” He raised his voice in response.

“Nothing. Just forget it,” you said and tried to brush through him to exit the bathroom.

“No,” he said stubbornly blocking your way. “You’re going to tell me what’s going through your head.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Why did Katsuki have to be so damn observant all that time.

“Sigh all you want. I'm not moving till you talk,” he said.

“Fine- I just… don’t feel attractive today. That’s all,” you finally admitted.

“The fuck? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he barked at you.

“Maybe to you! You’re always hot as hell, you’ve probably never had one self-conscious day of your life!” You spat back.

“That’s not fair,” he said in a voice much lower. “Course I have. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean you. You’re hot as hell to ya know?”

“Thank you for saying so but- sometimes I don’t feel like it,” you said honestly.

“Why?!” He grunted. “Have you been looking at those damn influencers again or something?! You know that shit is all fake,” he said.

“I know I know, but it’s not ugh-,” you sighed in frustration feeling your emotions heighten, “it’s not just that- it’s like everywhere and everything reminds me that I could look better and be better. From ads on my phone for beauty products, to friends talking about their diets. It’s exhausting feeling like I’m not keeping up,” you spoke and felt a bubble rise in your throat, “or that I’m not enough,” you said softly. and the tears finally broke through.

“Come here,” he said, gently wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. The protection that his embrace offered caused the pent-up emotions to rush out, you sobbed freely into his chest.

“Quite down, there’s no need to cry,” he spoke, his best attempt at soothing you. His arms still tightly around you, he kissed the top of your head.

“Ya know- a lot of places make a good amount of money for making people feel this way. Make ya feel like ya gotta buy this or do that to be hot but- it’s all bullshit,” he spoke, as your sobs lessened. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if you aren’t gonna believe me then, I don’t know who you’d believe. Because you know I’m not a damn liar and, I especially don’t sugar coat things to no one. So… believe me.” He spoke.

You pushed off his chest to wipe the remainder of your tears, as he continued.

“Just gotta tell all those thoughts to fuck right off. It takes a lot of courage to ignore all that crap and be confident. But you’re the bravest person I know so- I know you can do it. You’re a goddamn sexy person inside and out. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially yourself. Got it?”

You nodded sheepishly and looked up, your eyes catching the damp spot on his shirt from your tears. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Katsuki clicked his tongue once more, “that’s another thing- stop apologizing so much. You’re allowed to feel and take up space and… that’s what I’m here for so- come to me anytime you need. Don’t make me drag it out of you next time… promise?”

“Promise.”

Thanks for the request Mint! I think we all need blasty to grab us and tell us we’re beautiful just the way we are 🥹🥰! Hope you enjoy 🫶~

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

[quinnysnursery]

Awesome! Well I'm just gonna put it now cuz I CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANYMORE BSJSJDN

You wake up little but your caregiver (whoever you like I'm thinking Matt or Chris in this scenario tho) wakes up really sick. Like REALLY sick. In fact, you have to come out of little space and be big again to help them out. It takes a day or two but they feel much better soon with your help! But you can't help be agitated and emotional because you're constantly on the verge of going into headspace and you just need to be little! Your schedule was all messed up and the big you needs a break! Eventually the dam breaks and you burst into tears and the caregiver just hugs you close, shushing you and pressing kisses to your hair

"It's okay, baby, you can be little now.. thank you for helping dada when he was icky, I feel so much better now! It's okay, you can be my little baby, sweet one."

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk 🥹

-🎀

[🥤] in sickness & in health | chris sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!chris sturniolo x gn!little!reader

summary : tbh just read the request cus i can't think of how to put it in other words

warning/extra tid-bits : surpressing regression, crying, i used y/n, i think thats all!!

word count : 1,153

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (stars from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : been in my inbox since june 4th i gotta post this for ari😭 (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

It’s obvious to you as soon as you wake up that you’d be regressing today- a comfortable cloudy haze looming over your head was practically begging you to forget the stressors of adult life and slip into littlespace.

So, that’s exactly what you did! As you got ready for the day, you made sure to strategically pick out clothes that you knew little you would deem sensory friendly. After getting ready for the day, you bounded downstairs- in search of your loving caregiver, Chris.

That’s when your plans for the day were foiled. Just as you made it to the first floor of the house, your eyes instantly recognized the bundle of blankets on the couch to be your caregiver…that wasn’t like him. Sure, Chris wasn’t a morning person by any means but he always made sure to wake before you. 

“Chw’is?” You called out, it was evident in your voice that your headspace wasn’t far away. Chris peaked up from out of the blankets, nose raw and red from the amount of times he’d had to blow it. “G’morning…” Chris croaked, his throat aching with every syllable spoken. 

You stared at Chris blankly, he looked sick. Like- sad Victorian child sick. You blinked in surprise as Chris began a coughing fit, each cough sounding more painful than the last.

That almost instantly ripped the comfortable cloudy haze away from you, all the stressors of adult life coming back to you in an instant.

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, realizing that Chris needed you more than you needed regression right now. Chris gave you a look that asked “What do you think?”

“I’ll get started on some soup, you just sit there.” You comforted, moving to the kitchen and instantly searching the pantry for the canned soup that the triplets kept for cases just like this. You were a bit disappointed about the fact you wouldn’t be able to regress today, but hearing Chris begin another coughing fit from the living room was enough to keep you busy. 

You could wait to regress…hopefully.

The day continued on as expected, Chris had more coughing fits and went through five boxes of tissues whilst you sat right by his side promising him that it wasn’t a bother to take care of him- which was true! You honestly didn’t mind heating him up soup, finding new boxes of tissues or couch-rotting with your best friend.

Sure, you’d slipped up a couple times by letting your mind wander to what you two could’ve been doing had your plans for regressing not been foiled but it was fine. You were fine.

“M’ gonna head to bed.” Chris grumbled, exhausted despite the fact he spent the day taking couch naps. You look up from your phone, nodding quickly- a twinge of sadness in your heart. One of your favorite parts of regression was your bedtime routine with Chris.

“G’night.” He mumbled out before stumbling upstairs- blanket around his shoulders. When Chris was finally upstairs, you stretched out on the couch- flicking on the television. You flipped through a few streaming services before winding up on Disney+, your eyes immediately trailing to the latest episode of your favorite show.

You hovered over it with the remote, a white highlight glowing around the show’s icon. 

No. You couldn’t. You knew the second you heard the theme song- your headspace that had been taunting you all day would instantly come crashing down. You clicked off the TV, flipping over on the couch and deciding to sleep there for the night instead- afraid that you’d regress if you got to cuddle next to your caregiver.

Three days had passed before Chris was able to swallow without any pain and breath freely. He was still exhausted, but he was getting better. In those two days, you’d done everything in your power to not regress. 

You’d been sleeping on the couch or in Matt and Nick’s room so as to not regress during nighttime. You’d been actively avoiding any media you knew your regressed self would like- cartoons, toys, arts and crafts…anything.

Honestly, it was hell. After the second day, you felt your brain practically begging you to regress and get away from the stressors of your everyday life. It was as if your muscles were aching to be held by your caregiver.

“Y/n?” Chris called, he finally sounded like himself again and not a mucus ridden monster. You looked up from your phone, smiling at the brunette boy. “Yeah?” You asked, trying to play it cool. 

“You okay? You’ve been staring at that same instagram post for the past twenty minutes.” He laughed, motioning to your phone with his hand. You hadn’t even realized- you’d been too caught up in your own thoughts.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologized, swiping out of the app. Chris’ brows furrowed at this, he crouched down next to the couch to meet your eyes- you hated how your brain instantly felt the urge to regress. “Hey…what’s going on? You feel okay?” The boy asked, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You pull away, wrinkling up your nose and accidentally allowing a soft whine to escape from the back of your throat.

Only then did it hit Chris- you hadn’t regressed in nearly three days.

“Oh baby…c’mere.” Chris stood up, attempting to pull you into his chest. You instantly pushed him away, shaking your head “N-no! ‘our not all ‘e way better yet! Got’sa take care of ‘ou!” You cried out, frustrated tears brimming your eyes- you wanted to curl up in Chris’ lap but he needed you more right now.

Chris felt his heart break, instantly taking a seat next to you on the couch. “Baby…I feel better now, okay?” He comforted, causing you to let out a sniffle as you wiped your eyes with your sweater sleeve. “C’mere sweetheart…” He cooed, opening up his arms.

You pondered it for a moment, Chris said he was feeling better…and you really wanted his cuddles right now. You pulled the throw blanket off of yourself, instantly curling up into your caregivers lap and letting him wrap his arms around you.

“I missed my little baby so much,” He hummed, instantly feeling better with his little one in his arms. “Thank you for takin’ care of me sweetheart, you did such’a good job.” Chris smiled, resulting in you giving him a small smile as you snuggled further into his chest.Sure, pushing off your regression sucked and later you and Chris would have a discussion on ways you could both make sure you were being taken care of but right now the two of you curled up on the couch, throw blanket draped lazily over you as the latest episodes of your favorite cartoon began playing.

Both secure with the fact that you’d always look out for each other, in sickness and in health.

taglist !! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13 @pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei @v33angel @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

(and ofc thank you so much to the lovely @starri-nightss for requesting this)

[mazeinthemiroh]

I'm the one who requested the Ateez argument it was so good omg thank you so much .

I can wait to see the part 2 <3

ateez in an arguemnt - making up (part 2)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

word count: 2.4k

warnings: still lots of crying i'm sorry??

a/n: wow thank you guys SO MUCH for your support on part 1. i was just blown away by the amount of support it got so thank you very much. it makes me so happy to hear that people like my little writings :] but hey, i didn't want to hurt you all that much like are you gusy okay?? 😭 i hope this part 2 gives you guys some sort of closure and comfort in a way compared to the last one but i honestly don't know because there's a lot of crying in this one as well ANYWAYS sorry for waffling, please let me know if you enjoy <3

hongjoong

hongjoong set a coffee down by the table next to you. it was just how you liked it: creamy with extra foam on the top and cocoa powder dusting. he was precise, you'd give him that.

"is this supposed to be your attempt at making an apology?" you raised an eyebrow, looking up at him from your place on the couch. neither of you had attempted to speak to the other ever since the argument. it felt like forever ago but it was only last night.

he sighed and seated himself down beside you in a position that looked uncomfortable. he leaned his back against the arm of the couch whilst balancing on the tops of his toes to hold himself up. he seemed perfectly fine and comfortable. you softened at how he endeared you.

"it got you talking to me, didn't it?" he shrugged as he watched you suspiciously grab the coffee and slurp it up. perfection.

"i am sorry," hongjoong muttered, eyes fixated on the swirling patterns on the carpet. you knew this was a very hard thing to say; it impressed you that he did. "things got way too out of hand. i can be jealous at times, i know."

you held a scoff in; this was serious.

"just... seeing you with him..." hongjoong's eyebrows furrowed as he remembered how quick he was to anger. he shook his head at the memory, wanting to forget.

you reached out to touch his hand. "you know i would never want to hurt you like that." hongjoong nodded, not looking up. "i love you. i only have eyes for you. i just want you to know and see that."

hongjoong hummed in agreement and played with the edges of the pillow on his lap.

"this is good coffee, by the way," you slurped another sip, and with a little earnt chuckle from him, it felt like the tension finally dissipated. back to your old usual selves.

seonghwa

i will always keep fighting for us

that's what your text message read to him. he stared down at his phone blankly, a sigh escaping form his lips. he really messed up, didn't he?

you knew seonghwa had been going through a slump recently. life was not treating him well; you just had no idea it had gotten so bad. so, so bad, to the point where if your relationship was on the line, the fight in him had gone already. this wasn't like him, and you knew it well. this wasn't the real hwa.

he could've smiled at your intelligence of him had he not been so completely deflated. how he treated you, how he handled the situation... the old him would never have done something like this.

clicking the phone icon, he raised the phone to his ear, tapping his fingers on his legs as he awaited your response to his call. you picked up soon after.

"hwa?" your voice sounded from the other side. your tone was worried, almost frantic.

seonghwa cleared his throat, scrunching up his eyes as he fought past a sudden headache. there was so much going on today. he felt dizzy and exhausted but all he could focus on was you.

"i want to fight for us, too" seonghwa's voice was the softest it's ever been; you felt comforted by this, compared to the harshness you experienced earlier,

"i don't want to give up," seonghwa sounded desperate as thoughts of loving memories of you flooded his mind. how could he give you up? how could he not see that you were the one constant, beautiful aspect of his life? he needed you.

"i'm not ready to lose you."

yunho

you woke up and immediately felt the absence of the warm presence that would be your boyfriend. shivering, you pulled the covers up slightly, missing his warmth.

not only did he come home late last night, but now he had the audacity not to wake up with you? to leave you by yourself yet again? your heart broke a little bit more, the unfortunate familiar feeling of loneliness you felt last night bubbling up inside you again.

"hey"

you didn't even hear yunho come in, so the sound of his voice surprised you. the loneliness faded, at least. you turned on your other side to face him, and what you saw was something you didn't expect.

he had a mild smile on his face, his arms extended as he held a beautiful tray of breakfast goods for you to indulge in. breakfast in bed? you thought that would be just for special occasions, like valentines day. but yunho wanted to do something special for you.

approaching you and setting the tray gently down on your lap as you sat up, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

"i'm sorry i've been letting you down recently," he murmured, his breath fanning your skin. "but i will try my very best to make it up to you."

you weren't going to let him off that easily, but you took a big bite out of a croissant as you looked up at him.

"thank you," you murmured between mouthfuls. there were not a lot of things yunho did wrong, so the fact that he took ownership when he did was quite remarkable.

this man had softened your heart, truly.

yeosang

he was ready to talk to you.

you knew it would take time. your first mistake was not giving him that time in the first place. yeosang required gentle patience, at times. you knew this, and it got you down that you didn't read your boyfriend at the time.

all you needed to do was wait for him to come to you.

and he did. tired eyes hid behind a messy fringe as he yawned and settled down next to you on the bed. there was a moment of silence, but it wasn't tense or awkward. it was... beautiful, really.

"i'm sorry for pushing you, yeo" you snaked an arm around his shoulder and brought him closer to you, "i should've given you a bit of space."

he shook his head, eyes becoming misty with emotion. he sunk naturally into your soft touch. "no, no. i'm sorry for pushing you away. i don't want you to think i don't appreciate your support, it's just-"

"you don't have to explain anything. i get it, love," you looked at him, a distinct tenderness in your eyes. he looked back at you and could see you were right. there was always a level of unspokeness between you both that made sense. you understood each other beyond words; that's why there was always an instant attraction between you both.

yeosang sank into your arms, feeling safe and comfortable. life had been getting him down recently, which is why he was upset in the first place. having you here with him made things a lot more easier to cope with. a lot more bearable. he thought that love wouldn't change him, but it turns out he was wrong. your love did change him, and for the better.

he didn't have to be alone anymore.

san

it felt clear that there were a lot of gaps in your relationship with san. a lot of holes that weren't filled that gaped over a long period of time. he felt it just as much as you did.

for this reason, you both knew without spelling it out that last night wasn't just about san getting jealous. it was an accumulation of things; a build-up of every tension, every minor inconvenience. what it all boiled down to was the very last thing he said: you looked like you were having more fun with them than you've had fun with him in a long time.

"last night was stupid" he admitted to you, biting his lip. you nodded, genuinely agreeing with him. "i just-"

he stopped himself, feeling a tightness in his chest. you felt the same way. you felt what he was feeling through his eyes, the way they ached with holding back the tears. he blinked them away and cleared his throat as you moved towards him, pulling him into a hug. you felt him exhale shakily, as he barely hugged you back. there was a disconnect.

"things haven't been good for a long time, i know" you mumbled in his ear, sighing heavily.

"i'm scared" he confessed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. breathing in your scent, he started to appreciate the softness of your skin as he grazed his cheek against your chin. it was like he remembered what it was like to fall in love with you again.

he was scared of that love fading away. slowly but surely, slipping from his grasp, out of his control. that thought feared him more than anything else in the world.

"i know," your voice sounded small now as you pulled away, looking up at him. your gazes connected and soon your lips did too. the shared kiss was scarcely a whisper of a touch, but provided the comfort that both of you needed.

mingi

mingi stared at the wall, appalled at how he handled things. his breathing was rampant and uncontrollable and he needed to settle down. squeezing his eyes shut, he caught his breath after a few moments. if he was feeling like this, he couldn't imagine what you were feeling.

but he couldn't leave you to feel it alone.

"i know i'm probably the last person you want to see" mingi's voice sounded behind you as you wiped your tears away. you turned to face him and he could see the glisten of your sadness in the dull bedroom light.

"but i can't let a night pass with you still mad at me."

that's the mingi you fell in love with. noble, loyal, and most of all, kind. there was something very rare and beautiful about mingi's heart; it was like a precious gem. you felt you didn't deserve him for so many reasons, but his heart was the reason that dominated the most.

this is why you feared he had given it to someone else.

"i just love you mingi" you collapsed in his arms, sobbing into his chest as he caught you. he wasn't expecting such an outburst of sadness from you. he expected you to be mad, angry still at his actions. but here you were, crying in his arms, as vulnerable as you could get. a tear ran down his cheek, seeing you like this.

"i love you so much y/n" he pressed hot, passionate kisses on your neck as you calmed down a bit from your crying. you whimpered into his touch; he was so sincerely captivating.

mingi held you close to him and swayed you back and forth until your cries had relinquished.

the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of your sadness.

wooyoung

wooyoung didn't wait for you to leave. he couldn't bare it. chasing after you, he grabbed hold of your wrist, swirling you around to face him. the tears in his eyes matched your own.

grasping your shoulders, he pulled you towards him in a messy hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly as your face hit his chest. you could feel his heart beating against your ear.

"i'm so sorry," he said immediately. his guilt had bubbled over him, so much so that you didn't have to ask for an apology. he was not like the other people you had dated, in that sense. he was humble. he was reflective. as much as he was stubborn at times, wooyoung sure as hell knew when he was in the wrong. and he owned it every time.

you leaned to his touch as he cried loudly. what had gotten into him? what had upset him so much? you wish he would tell you.

you pulled back and wiped his tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. he sniffed back his sobs, barely able to meet your soft gaze. you hushed him and calmed him down; you always knew how to.

"talk to me."

there was a certain distinct magic that came with your voice. it seemed to reassure and calm wooyoung in a way that he would never have expected. it made him regret going through things on his own; made him regret pushing you away the way he did. he could've leant on you, but he chose not to. with the tender care you provided, he forgets why.

so he did talk to you. the whole night, he talked. about his feelings, about his worries, about everything that had been dragging him down, making him distant.

and you kissed his worries away, talked through all his feelings and held him close to you the whole time. because you knew he would do the exact same for you.

jongho

"oh look, it's my favourite person in the whole world. the love of my life" you drawled out, sarcasm injected into your tone as your harsh gaze fell on jongho.

"are you going to make this easy or hard?" jongho matched your defiant energy, not breaking eye contact with you.

"depends on how you're going to handle this," you seat back in your seat, putting down your phone, intrigued with how he is going to resolve the incident that had occurred.

jongho took a deep breath. it was hard for him to find the right words. sometimes his head and his heart didn't always meet, and he didn't want to fail you because of that. he chose his words wisely.

"your worries are important to me," jongho started, "i was being very selfish. i guess i was just hung up on my own job that i didn't take time to consider yours and how you feeling."

jongho lowered his head as you nodded at his words. "what you said really hurt me, jongho."

"i know," he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he reminisced on what he had said to you. "that wasn't my intention at all. that never is."

there was a moment of silence. you looked up at him from your seat as he continued to stand, before making his way to sit by you. you both perfectly slid into each other's arms for a long, overdue hug. a hug that would've felt so simple before, but now filled with complexities.

there were so many feelings in the air, but the one that was felt the most was love. love always pulled through.

tags: @handyulset, @mixling-blog, @jadejj, @starry-eyedlune, @atinyreads, @mulletjoonsupremacy, @youre-a-wallflower-charlie, @hwadump, @scuzmunkie, @strawberrysandwitch, @monstaxdirtywonk, @michel-angelhoe, @sanshinee-world, @aishidaishi, @moonbinnie0983, @fix0nbb

[querenciasturniolo]

same ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: swearing, crying, anxious thoughts, kissing

summary: nick gives you some much needed advice, and things don’t go according to plan

a/n: (part two to obviously) i wasn’t expecting the amount of love i got for obviously, and i was SO excited for this part two that i tried to get through all of my requests so i could focus on this. thank you, i had SO much fun writing this 💓 i hope i tagged everyone !!!

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

tags: @222-lia , @black-yn , @lvrsparadise , @gwenloremain , @athenalive , @mxriverse , @notmarnaa , @rainsoakedphoenix , @peter-knows-spiderman , @sunflowerchild27 , @strniolo , @jellybeanbby , @oneirophobic , @landryz , @umichlover , @ot5xhabit , @edensocool , @floofparker , @friedfirewagonhorse , @avamartino , @hoshhoshh

You didn’t answer the text.

You tried, you really did. You had ‘yes’ typed out and drafted, but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d pick Nick up from the house, or he’d get an Uber, but you couldn’t step foot in there.

You’d never been one to run away from anything, especially when it could start conflict, but this was…uncharted territory. Matt didn’t text you again after that, but every time Nick saw you, he complained about how Matt was acting like a kicked puppy, and today was no exception.

“I just don’t understand why he’s moping around all the time.” He said, flopping down on your bed and groaning. You couldn’t take hiding this from him anymore, so you sighed and opened your phone, opening the text from Matt and showing Nick. He glanced over, his eyes scanning over the text for longer than it should have taken.

It was quite a few moments before he reacted, but after fully processing it, he shot up and whipped around to face you, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Why haven’t you answered him? It’s no wonder he’s all out of whack!” Nick exclaimed. You knew he didn’t mean it in a mean way, but it still felt like a jab to your chest. You groaned and grabbed a pillow, pulling it over your face to muffle your scream into it. You pulled it away and hugged it close to you.

“I don’t know! I can’t…I can’t bring myself to answer it. I want nothing more than to answer him. Like, if he feels the same way that’s great and we can go from there, but if he doesn’t but still wants to be friends, it’ll be awkward even when I do get over him and, fuck! I don’t know what to do.” You completely let everything out, all of the worry and stress and frustration towards yourself completely diminishing as tears pooled in your eyes and a choked sob left your lips.

The crazy thing was that you knew that your crying wasn’t because you were hurting or sad—it was just such a relief to finally get everything you’d been feeling off of your chest that your body reacted in the only way it could. Nick wasted no time as he pulled you into his arms and held you, letting you get it out of your system before saying anything else.

When the tears finally stopped and your breathing was even, Nick pulled away but kept his hands on your shoulders. His eyes were locked on yours, full of love and care.

“First, never hold anything in like that. I don’t care what the topic is, it’s not worth the pain of keeping it in.” He said, his voice soft but stern. You nodded and wiped at your cheeks. Nick sighed and looked down, pulling his hands to his lap and fidgeting with his fingers before he looked back up. “Second, you should talk to Matt. He’s the only person that can find a solution to this situation that will be good for the both of you. He is the one you should be telling your worries to, because he is the only other person that knows exactly how you are feeling.”

You loved and hated when Nick was right. You knew you could only avoid this without going completely insane for so long, and eventually you’d have to get over yourself and just talk to him, even if it didn’t go well. Regardless of the outcome, you grabbed your phone and finally sent the message, locking it and dropping your phone into your lap.

Nick’s smile was all of the reassurance you needed.

You’d been pacing in your bedroom since Nick left, each minute on your clock going up making your heart race that much faster. Matt had told you he was on his way ten minutes ago, which meant he should be walking into your apartment at any moment, and it was agonizing.

Waiting had never been your strong suit, and the torturously slow build up was the proof. You had decided against doing this a million times, telling yourself that he wasn’t coming and you should just text him nevermind, but then having to convince yourself that he was coming and that you needed to chill out. It was a vicious cycle.

The sound of him knocking on your door made your skin crawl, every atom in your body at attention as you walked through your apartment and hesitated before pulling the door open. Matt was standing there, his eyes darting from the floor to you when you gestured for him to come in. You led him to the couch and sat down, not a word spoken between you until you finally looked into his eyes and word vomited all over the place.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, and it’s okay.”

Matt sighed and looked down. “Y/n.” He said, but once you start you can't stop.

“I just don’t want you to feel awkward and there’s this weird tension around every time we’re in the same room.” You said, Matt looking up with his mouth agape.

“What? Y/n—”

You dropped your head and looked into your lap. “I just hate the thought of losing you in any way, I just want you to know that it’s fine and I can get over this so you don’t have to feel wei—”

You were cut off completely when your head was lifted and Matt’s lips were on yours. Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks, his thumbs resting on your cheekbones. It was over soon before you could process it, your eyes opening when he pulled away to see him looking at you sternly.

“Would you shut up for a second?” He said, his voice tinged with the slightest bit of amusement. You nodded once, your wide eyes watching his every movement.

“Now, I want to say that you ignoring me sucked.” He started. You opened your mouth to apologize, but the look on his face had you shutting it completely and waiting for him to finish. “Thank you. It sucked, but it’s okay. I’m just glad that we’re talking now.” He said.You nodded as he sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Now that it seems I’ve made my feelings clear, I have some questions for you.” You nodded again, not fully able to speak yet.

“So, you like me?” He asked. You sighed, nodding reluctantly for the third time. You’d answer the next question out loud, once your heart had left your throat. Matt nodded and looked down, his cheeks pink. “For how long?”

You thought for a moment before scoffing—you couldn’t think of a specific moment. “How long have we known each other?” You asked humorlessly, Matt smiling and lifting his head.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked. You were staring at the pillow separating the two of you, pinching at it and removing nonexistent pieces of lint. You had absolutely no idea. You’d told yourself that you had to convince him that it was okay if he didn’t feel the same so many times, that you didn’t even think about what would happen if he did.

“I don’t know.” You said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

Matt was already watching you, his eyes soft and a faint smile on his lips. He hummed and pursed his lips, feigning being hard in thought. You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as his face lit up.

“How about—we take it slow, and let things happen naturally? The only thing we know for certain is how we feel.” He suggested, your heart racing as you processed the possibilities. “And no overthinking, just go with the flow.” He said, your smile growing as you nodded.

“I can get down with that.”

[sugar-plum-writer]

The Serene Peony Of Winter

Paring: Sukuna!King of Curses x Fem!Geisha Reader, A chapter by chapter series.

Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, an ancient Japan romance through time with darling reader~

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER― 1

A chilling gust of wind howled past, like the cry of a ghost, freezing in the winter night, it was quiet, too quiet. Utterly pin-drop-silent― the moon peaked through your windows as you sat on your tatami mat facing your desk, a single candle on your table illuminated the room, though a small section at least you could see nonetheless.

In front of you sat the Oka-san of the Okiya House you had lived your life in and will even die in, who has raised you, and is the person who currently owns your life. She made you the Geisha you are today, sure life was hard but well at least better than rotting in a ditch.

"Y/n, do you know why I personally came to your room late at night?", staring at your face, she blew her pipe

"I came because"― a sigh escaped, as she tapped her fingers, "You will be entertaining a guest, a guest who you would not even be able to get a peak off" She paused carefully wording her next sentence and leaned in speaking words only for you and her to hear

"The King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna", the calm demeanor changed as she put her pipe away, her eyes shaking, cold sweat dripping down her brows as she dug her nails into the tatami mat

Air froze, the moon hid, silence filled the room, you stared at her― lips parted― shook to your core.

"Ryomen Sukuna!?", your eyes widen in horror wondering if this is even real, you frantically grab your teapot and directly drink the tea from it― it burned your throat, something you would never do as a Geisha, but it did not matter.

"Hush!", she hissed and she covered your mouth with her palm, "Yes him"

"Have you finally lost your Mind Oka-san!? You are crazy!? You know it's forbidden, we take bribes from the sorcerers to keep an eye out for curses! and entertain sorcerers exclusively", removing her palm from your mouth, you look her in the eyes, angry, panicked, a mixture of emotions

"Oh, shut up, you are overreacting", biting her lip, she puffs her pipe

"You think I would not think twice without planning?", she snorted

"You saw the two bodies today that were taken out of the Okiya?", she took a sharp breath, slamming her hands on the table― eyes staring into yours

"He did it, he killed them, you think I can say no to him? I might be old, but the old lady still values her neck. I am no fool", puffing her pipe she caressed her neck

"You―", biting your lip, as you tried to refute her words, "What about me? What if I die?", clenching your jaw, you slammed your hand on the table

"He is, Ryomen Sukuna― The King of Curses, Worshipped as a God, you think I will even live past 2 seconds?"

"We are just a small Okiya in this isolated prefecture, getting by Y/n, for him to even find us is one in a million chance― think about it", her eyes gleamed with excitement

"If you do manage to garner his attention, in the couple hours you spend with him, our lives will change― the local sorcerers do give us money but can it compare to a drop of what, he will give", her eyes looked neurotic, as a chuckle escaped from her mouth

Your head hung low, as the words sunk in, after all, she was correct. It was true, the glamorous outlook of the Okiya is just hollow, the amount of money needed to raise future ladies, supply servants, and every drop of gold that glistens, all have a price.

"Y/n, price― one needs to pay, even laughter has a price you know? After all, you yourself have seen, the value of gold, if your skills manage to amuse him, he stays for even 5 min, It will be an achievement"

The faint scent of herbs lingered in the air, as silence drowned in the room, candlelight flickering, a choice must be made, what path will you choose dear y/n?

"I-", you pause as you raise your head

"I will meet him, I will, make him stay, so what if he is the King of Curses? I will use all I have got", looking her in the eyes, clenching your fist― trying to steel yourself as you look her in the eyes.

"You really are, a true Geisha"

"But- what if someone finds out?", your throat felt dry as you look at her

"You will meet him only at night, mornings will be rare, don't worry", taking another puff she looks at you calmly

"I will take care of it if needed, I will stitch the lips of the servants with a needle if needed to keep their mouths shut", she smiled, how can she say such words and smile so beautifully is beyond you

"Now prepare yourself, here, based on what I felt from him, I made a note of him, read it", digging deep into her bosom, she took out a small scroll, slid it on the table towards you, and walked out

"A man of dominance, a man of cruelty, a man beyond human that is what he is, give him an experience beyond humanity"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The moon stood in the sky, somehow all visible, as if waiting in expectation, agape, to witness this. It gossiped with the wind, the stars, and your eyes.

You sat, dressed up, wearing your black Kuromontsuki, only worn for special occasions. Adorned with silken embroidery white and gold colored threads, blending, mixing into a crane as clouds surround and flow with the flowers. Your hair is in a Geiko Shimada, adorned with flowers, rouge on your cheeks, and lips blood red.

With your eyes gazing at the tatami mat, quietly, contemplating if this will be the last time you ever see yourself breathing

Tut, tut, tut

The doors open, to the lavish private room, silks, and wine kept. Scrolls of paintings adorned the room.

"I, Y/n greet, Ryomen Sukuna-sama"

gaze not daring to look up you keep it low

"I hope your journey was not too tiring, if I may be allowed so, shall I pour you a cup of tea?"

Rasing your head up, you look at him

"So this, is The Serene Peony of Winter? Y/n?"

A deep chuckle escaped, eyes chilling you to the bone, looked deep into yours, without even undressing you felt stripped naked, exposed so vulnerable, you wanted to run to hide and pretend its a bad dream but―

The scent of winter, and the silky fabric around you, felt too real to think of as a dream.

Footnote: Check out masterlist for all chapters!