#not really little seeing how long I have went on and on and on-

[homunculus-argument]

It will always be my biggest pet peeve when someone tries to start arguing with me about something that I was there to witness and they weren't. Like there's literally no other reason to disagree with me than just fundamentally assuming that I get everything wrong by default, and therefore the most logical assumption of what really happened must be "literally anything but that".

This one time I was at grandma's place with family, and wanting to get a nice little break from being in the same house with them, I took the dogs out for a long walk. Grandma's place is like "dirt roads between fields and forests, and then there's cows" levels of middle-of-nowhere, so the only other people you'd see or hear anywhere around are in cars driving past. So going on a walk with the dogs, on the side of one of the aforementioned dirt roads, I was startled by a sudden, very close and loud noise of

KARCHUNK KARCHUNK KARCHUNK KARCHUNK

Falling into the distance as whatever was stomping in the thickets got the hell out of dodge, startling me and prompting the dogs to try and bolt after it. Had I not kept the dogs on a leash like civilised people do, the dogs would have ran to pursue. Considering how loud the rustling was and the tempo of the steps that the animal took, it must have been at least the size of a human person. I didn't see it, but I did very clearly hear it, as did the dogs, and I came to the conclusion that it must be a deer. I had seen wild deer bolt before, and though I'd never heard it so close before, I did know what it sounds and looks like.

Once I got back to the house, I told my family about the unbelievably close encounter I just had with a deer - and about how the deer must not have heard us coming either, because it had lingered so close and bolted so suddenly. And after listening to my account, my family pretty much unanimously went

"Hmm, no :)" and decided that it must not have been like that. Surely it would not have been a deer. Perhaps I heard the neighbour chopping up thickets and mistook the sounds for a bolting deer. Perhaps it was some smaller animal, surely it could not have been a deer. They practically made a game out of it, coming up with fun alternative theories of what it might have been that I was there to witness and they were not, because the only part of the story they agreed must be true is that I surely got it wrong.

They also agreed that it was petty and unreasonable of me to get angry about this, why was so hell-bent on arguing about something that was so pointlessly insignificant that nobody cares about what the facts are.

[writingbluerose]

one more draconic feature | malleus draconia x reader

summary : you've invited Malleus to hang around by your dorm to enjoy each other's companies. Who would've known it ended with you exploring something else instead

warnings : SUGGESTIVE!! like some kissing shit but it's on another level lol ( as well as I can write it lol, I... can't write these stuff too well, but practice makes perfect ^^ )

a / n : this one is based on another comic I saw and also it could be read as another version to this drabble I made some time ago! Enjoy :3

The sun was already up and proud in the sky, giving the birds a chance to sing merrily from their place on top of the branches outside. It was around the end of February, the events at VDC were still a bit fresh but you had resumed your everyday life as always.

Today though, it was a particularly nice and peaceful day. In the now quiet Ramshackle dorm lounge ( after Grim has decided to go into your room to take a "very well deserved nap" ) a figure was sitting relaxed, in their element, on one of the old couches. And that figure was none other than Malleus Draconia. He had been invited by you to spend time together as the VDC had taken most of your time, becoming busier and busier by the day. And come on now, who was he to deny such a request from his beloved? Besides, he's told you many times, the books you've found sitting all dusty and forgotten in this dorm were some of the best pieces of literature he's ever read in his stay at this school, so for him it was a double win.

After some time of waiting, Malleus' ears picked up the faintest sound of footsteps coming in his direction, and then- “Hey there Hornton!” At the sound of your voice, Malleus chuckled and closed his book with a thud “Even now still calling me by the same endearing nickname. You're one of a kind my dear” You gave him a huffed laugh before coming to rest next to him “I didn't interrupt your reading again did I?” Your eyes met his in a quick exchange before he slowly shook his head in reassurance, “No of course not, don't worry about it. I must admit that even I sometimes am not aware of my surroundings, especially when I'm doing something I really am engrossed in” His hand rested on your head before giving you a pat and returning to his book once again. Both of you sat there in silence and after what seemed like an eternity Malleus had noticed you started fidgeting with your fingers, your leg slowly bouncing. A habit of yours he had picked up in the early days you've met, indicating that you were either nervous about something or itching to do something you were not supposed to. The fae's eyes followed your movements a little more before asking : “What is it you're itching to do hm? Are you looking to touch my horns again?” If you could look past the book, you'd be able to see his big smirk hidden behind the hard cover. “No! No! It's not that it's just...mmh — your eyes trailed to the floor, your leg not stopping its bouncing — I was just thinking about your horns. You told me long ago that your horns are a big part of who you are, it kinda represents your family right?” “Indeed so. Our horns are also a very sensible spot, it is the source of our magic, a vital point. Should they break... — his eyes narrowed — well you wouldn't want to know what would happen would you now?” You shook your head at his words before staring at him for a little while “You have other features right? As in, other features akin to a dragon's... I mean you have the eyes, the tail, I wonder if your tongue also looks like one...— ah but nevermind me!” Your mumbling abruptly came to an end after taking a look at Malleus and his shocked expression. What went through that little adorable head of yours hm? Malleus thought. “Well anyway! You know that does remind me of that one story I listened to one of Professor's Trein class...” Quickly loosing yourself in your explanations you failed to notice how Malleus was still looking at you with now a more mischievous expression, his smirk growing into a grin behind his book.

Closing it, not too hard so you wouldn't get startled, his arm slowly started to move towards your chin to grab it, which you failed to notice, still speaking, face red as beet. “Are you truly that curious?” His fingers grabbed your chin ( a bit too hard you would've liked to say ) and forcefully turned your face to his for you to be met with a sight that many people would consider the moment they're about to go to the after life ;

You heard a low growl and an almost mute hissss... as Malleus' mouth opened, revealing his white, long and sharp fangs as his tongue slithered out, long, forked at the tip and flickering through the air, his drool sticking to it and coming down his chin, eyes gleaming down at you like a snake who just caught a delicious prey. You gulped down before leaving a tiny shriek, your form trembling in his hold.

He closed his mouth, tongue licking his lips as his hand came to clean off the drool on his chin. The prince smiled down at you, “Well, did I satisfy your curiosity now, my love?” The tone in his voice left you knowing that he wanted to do much more, but after all, a predator usually waits for its prey's most vulnerable moment. “I-I uhh...uhmmm” He let out a loud snort “So? Is this enough to intimidate you? I'd be hard to believe after all these overblots you've faced” That damn teasing bastard. You signed, stopped, and inhaled again before saying : “Y-you looked... pretty... neat” Voice cracking, not being able to get his expression out of your mind, refusing to look your boyfriend in the eye.

One, two minutes passed before Malleus let out a thunderous laugh, amused and enjoying your reactions to the fullest. “My and here I thought I had frightened you! I must admit, teasing you has become one of my favorite activities to do!” You let out a loud 'HAH!' as if offended, though you both knew there was no venom behind the gesture“You didn't think I was done, do you?” “Wh-h-hey! Malleus!!” The fae prince's hands came to grab your waist pulling you into his lap, his eyes and movements giving an open space to a, new, primal feeling. His fingers found your shirt, unbuttoning it so he'd be given a clear view to your shoulders ; A moment passed before you felt his tongue slowly licking from the shoulder and stopping right under your chin. And he bit down, hard, making you let out a high pitched moan in pleasure. His mouth didn't leave your shoulder yet, and when he felt the first drop of blood coming out, his pupils dilated as he started sucking and licking until he left a deep mark “I haven't even done half the things I wish to do” So he said

His lips quickly found yours, kissing rough and passionate, forked tongue licking your lips asking for entrance. You hadn't dared to tease him or refuse his request, you know better than to do so at this moment. So when you parted his lips welcoming him in your warmth, Malleus let out a groan making you moan into the kiss in return. Grabbing him by his shoulders to steady yourself, his forked tongue hadn't missed a spot. It was so long and fuck did it feel so good it hasn't even been a full minute until you felt drool dropping down at the corners of your mouth.

Without realizing it, your hands went upper and upper until they found the base of his horns. You grabbed at it so hard that Malleus down right growled. So deep it could've come down as a threat for others, but when his hands grabbed your wrists keeping them in place for a split second, before going down to grip your waist, you understood his message : 'Don't you dare take your hands off' so you didn't. In fact, you gripped harder, fingers rising once again on the form of his horns, that's when Malleus parted his lips and moaned, husky and low.

His fingers went lower and lower on your tights, he didn't continue to kiss you right away, instead he came closer, panting in each other's mouths, needy and desperate for more. “Mal... we can't, we can't do this...” Your hands came down to hold his face and the fae closed his eyes at the contact, “Beloved, you cannot lie and tell me you don't wish for this as much as I do. Or do you truly not?” Avoiding his gaze, you inhaled a sharp breath. Of course you wanted to. “I- I do Malleus, fuck, of course I do” “Then please allow me” He lifted you up and positioned you on your back on the couch undoing the buttons of your shirt just a bit more, so he could get a peak at your chest.

Oh goodness, you were in it for now that's for sure

He kissed you on your lips, then traveled down to your neck, kissing slowly and softly down to your chest, fingers gripping and pressing at your skin leaving more tiny love bites in his wake, his ears picking up the faintest of whimpers and tiny moans. Smirking, he continued to press kisses down to your chest, moaning at the same time with you when your hands came to rest on his horns again. His eyes found yours, pupils dilated and face flushed, and for the first time you had spotted a new glint to them. One that only presented a raw feeling of lust and need. When he spoke, his voice sounded more exciting then he intended to let on : “I hope you're ready my love, for I won't hold back in the slightest”

© writingbluerose 2025

[charmed-asylum]

GIRRRRRL ONCE AGAIN IM SNAPPING MY DIVA FAN OUT AND SNAPPING MY GOD DAMM FINGER OOOH GIRL I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING LORD MMM MMMM MMM. Nah bc she ain’t that stupid and with Sarah and Wheezie. Lets me realistic give the bene of doubt . What if Ward wanted the land and dad like no whole time. Makes sense why Rafe ain’t moving in to her land but snatch her up and shit. Like if it’s a real thing why didn’t they discuss this with the will or something no out side party to approve of this. You want the land I’m giving you money which again if Ward was doing so much why didn’t they not sale the horse why did they not gain the staff of what not others had and can share if it in fact a REAL THING. Also Rafe you can’t be more idk non bull in a china house shit. What would few days even do huh nothing ain’t nothing but a shit on a cracker. Huh.

Let be realistic you know not only did Rafe lose his shit seeing her in her outfit but I bet even Ward did a 👀. “The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step” I feel bad because again he manipulating her to do stuff but she justifies it with things like oh I like to do it anyway and a thought of what happens if I don’t and do. “ You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine” even at the end all he doing is manipulating her I’m sorry but I’m adding the fact that yes they just met but out of all the girls OUT OF ALL OF THEM he choose her so someone some how she got pick he could go to a shit tone of people but he went to her and they just met how the fuck does Wheezie know shit about her and she don’t know shit about them two days two days she knew them. That’s it.

Again out girl may say she a bimbo bc she got bimbo ways but girl yesssss remember that shit .” When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal” I wonder what was the convo between John B and Rafe. Girl don’t be looking at his goods it’s a trap 🪤

Weee we meet wheezie omg thank you father of god huh use her girl use her a s shield. “ You liked her instantly “ When she was talking about what Sarah never had time to do I wonder if reader become that sister wheezie always wanted also what did they tell her regards the reader bc she acting like she should know a shit tone then she does. Does she know of anyone from the neighborhood.

AGAIN OUT GIRL AINT NO BLONDE HAIR BIMBO WOO WOO” It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? “

Do you think the look Rafe gave reader was of possession more than shock or pleasure. Or his tone, Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. He makes me huh “ You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman “ Like 1st chapter I got better things to do now it’s MINE ERRRREREEEE WOOF WOOF 🐶

Sarah ain’t waiting for nothing lol

Rafe touch and firmness Man U need to go tho a year book and jerk off or something. Like damn he in that much of a rush I have to say even Ward should be a little worried like don’t this seem a little unstable and with Sarah calling bullshit even Wheezie shim in like damn .

Rafe sure as hell went from it’s a duty to know it’s about legacy with a puff out chest. Idk I feel he so calculated that what part real or not real it’s like an abusive man or a criminal trying to reason on why they do what they do. I just feel bad bc this reminds me of what she said in part one about family and shit he must of teacher diary ( something I can see him doing) once start talking about this bit I’m like yup he got the biggest breeding kink if I didn’t ever seen one. I’m just huh this shit got me getting high blood pleasure and I read it again I get mad again

rough hands, soft chains [2] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, loss of virginity, rafe is HUGE, breeding kink, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

In which you meet your new family, the Camerons, and learn Rafe's true intentions.

word count: 5.1k

part one

rafe cameron masterlist

The spare outfit you’d packed for your failed escape attempt was a delicate two-piece set in white. The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step. The lightweight fabric was a reflection of your usual preference for comfortable clothes. A handful of other items hung in the closet, clearly not yours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept whatever offering the Camerons had left for you.

After giving your reflection a look, you turned your attention your room. You floated over to the vanity, a rustic wooden display decorated with gold trinkets. You’d only packed the essentials, meaning you’d limited yourself to mascara, concealer, blush and lipgloss. You slid onto the matching stool decking to touch up your makeup, wiping away the smudged mascara and applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. Lip gloss always had a way of brightening your mood, even now. You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine. 

When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal.

Something caught your attention outside the large windows. Rolling pastures stretched out before you, dotted with fences and patches of wildflowers swaying gently. Your gaze drifted toward the yard below. Rain trickled down slowly but you realized the figures moving in the distance, behind a tall white fence, were Juliet and John B. Making his way to the fence’s edge, now adorned in a work jacket and dark hat to protect from the rain, was Rafe. 

They were soon deep in conversation. Your eyes lingered on Rafe’s figure a little too long before shifting to Juliet, whose movements were graceful and unbothered. She had been alone for so long, your father had been forced to sell the other three horses your family owned years ago, and her care had undoubtedly suffered as your father’s health declined. Surely, the Camerons had at least a hundred horses and the resources to ensure Juliet was well cared for and had proper company. For a moment, you wondered if she might be happier here, happier than even you.

You were grateful for the distraction when a knock came at your door an hour later. You expected it to be Rafe, but a fleeting thought made you pause, would Rafe even bother knocking?

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find a dark-haired girl standing there, no older than fifteen. She was smiling, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Hey," she said, giving you a once-over with a playful look. "I’m Wheezie, Rafe’s little sister.”

So this was the other Cameron sibling? You smiled instinctively and offered your hand. "Oh, hi! I’m Y/N."

You blinked, studying her more carefully. She looked nothing like Rafe, and in that moment, she seemed almost... approachable. Less intimidating. Her warmth, however, felt almost out of place given the situation.

"I like your outfit," she said, her gaze scanning your clothes and makeup. "And your makeup. Ugh, I wish I could do mine like that. Sarah never has time to show me how."

“Sarah?” you asked, a little confused.

"My older sister," Wheezie explained, raising an eyebrow as if surprised. "Rafe’s never mentioned her?"

You shook your head, realizing she might think you'd known Rafe longer than just today. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”

"Well, there’s three of us," Wheezie continued, her voice casual. "And Rose, our step-mom."

“Oh, okay,” You nodded, taking in all of the information. You weren’t at all used to meeting new people, “It’s nice to meet you. Can I ask you if Mr. Ward is home yet? I kinda need to speak with him.” 

Wheezie’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Him and Rose have been gone all day. Cattle auction, I think. They probably won’t be back until dinner.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? Wheezie, sensing your hesitation, brightened up and added, “I could show you around the house in the meantime.”

You thought about it for a second, then smiled. “Sure, that would be nice.”

Joining Wheezie out in the hallway, your tour began. Wheezie led you to Rafe’s room first, just beside yours. “He likes to keep it locked,” she said with a grin, “Or else I’d totally snoop around with you.”

You liked her instantly. Moving down the hall, you passed Ward’s study, a room that felt both timeless and functional. It had a desk covered in papers and shelves filled with books. Next was the master bedroom, a room with dark wood furniture and soft linens. 

Finally, Wheezie opened the door to the library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the room, and large armchairs were scattered around a grand fireplace. It felt like the perfect spot for quiet moments. 

You couldn’t help but feel small in this place. It held the warmth of a family home but it was massive, the ceilings too high, and had decor that screamed “we’re wealthy”. 

Downstairs, the living room was the first stop, a grand space with towering ceilings. Soft leather sofas and enormous windows that offered a breathtaking view of the stretching land and mountains in the distance.

Moving through the open archway into the kitchen, you took note of counters made of polished stone, dark wood cabinets, and the appliances all state-of-the-art. The kitchen was bustling with a couple of workers, one chopping vegetables at the counter, the other pulling something out of the oven. You noticed a door that led out to a terrace.

“These are all Rose’s renovations. She’s really into interior design, and all that stuff.” 

“And the people. They work here all the time?” you asked, intrigued.

“My Dad can grill, but Rose doesn’t cook at all. So they get help,” Wheezie explained with a shrug. “I think she likes having everything perfect, you know?”

“She does have really nice taste,” You spoke genuinely, fumbling with your fingers as you looked around.

Past the kitchen was the dining room, where a long, weathered table was set for what could easily be a dozen guests. The chandelier above was massive, its crystals catching the light and casting a glow over the room.

Wheezie led you into the garage next. The space was expansive, with polished concrete floors and a collection of vehicles parked neatly in their spots, sleek trucks, a few SUVs, and a couple of classic cars you assumed were more for show. Near the back of the garage, you spotted a few horseshoe-shaped saddles hanging on the wall, alongside an array of hunting gear. There were rifles and ammunition neatly organized on the shelves, a few pairs of boots stacked by the door, and weathered hunting jackets hanging from the walls. It was practical, but still had the polished look of the rest of the house, like nothing here was ever out of place.

“Do you ride?” Wheezie asked as you took in the details of the room.

“Yeah, I have a horse named Juliet,” you grinned. “Do you?”

“I can,” Wheezie replied with a shrug. “I’m not great at it. Sarah’s better, and Rafe—well, he’s good at things like that.”

“Does Sarah live here too?” you asked, curious.

“Yeah, but she’s been MIA for two days.” Wheezie’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t tell anyone this,” she continued, glancing around before leaning in closer. “She and John B. are a thing. And she hangs out with his friends.”

“It’s a secret?” you asked, intrigued but still unsure of the family dynamics at play.

Wheezie nodded, her eyes flicking to the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. “My dad wants her to be with someone whose family is... more prestigious, if that makes sense?”

You processed that for a moment, nodding slowly. “But my family’s not... prestigious. But Ward wants me to marry your brother.”

A mischievous glint sparked in Wheezie’s eyes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Is it true that Rafe got you pregnant and that’s why you have to live with us?”

You froze for a split second, then blurted out, “I am not!” You suddenly realized how loud you’d been and lowered your voice, grabbing Wheezie’s hand as you whispered urgently, “I am not.”

“Other people don’t think I’m pregnant, do they?” You continued, “Because I don’t think I’ve done anything that could lead to that…”

You questioned yourself for a moment, feeling a pang of uncertainty. You’d learned about the birds and the bees just once, when you were eleven, and it had been before your mother died. After that, your education had been limited, and anything beyond what she'd explained was a blur of confusion.

What you were certain of, though, was that the kiss with Rafe couldn’t have led to that. You had never heard of anything like that happening from a simple kiss. To your knowledge, you needed at least to sleep in the same bed for that to happen, and you and Rafe hadn’t crossed that line. Before your mind could wander to that possibility, Wheezie spoke. 

“I’m not trying to be rude, just curious,” She said with a smirk, her tone light and teasing. “No one around here tells me anything.”

A few hours later you entered the dining room again with Wheezie. You’d spend a good amount of time in her room and she’d explained more about her family, including more details about Rafe. You learned that she was Rafe’s soft spot. That he was cold to almost everyone except her. Ward had a lot of expectations for him and Rafe did about everything he could to appease his father. 

“I think Rafe just wants to do things his own way,” Wheezie had mused. “But, you know, my Dad has other ideas. He’s been trying to get Rafe to be more... ‘like him.’”

Kindly, you’d accepted her request for you to help her with her makeup. You’d done hers like yours, with bright blush and shiny lipgloss. She was so excited that she practically skipped down the stairs after, her happiness infectious as she bounced in front of you. A part of you couldn’t help but smile. Was this what it was like to have a sister? The feeling was new and strange, but warm, like something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

Rafe looked you over, as if he was offended by your choice in clothing, “What did I do?” You asked, innocently. 

Maybe he didn’t think your outfit was cute. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something possessive, as if he were commanding you rather than asking. He waved you over. 

You hesitated, looking at Ward, who gave you a reassuring, welcoming smile, and then at Rose and Sarah. Sarah’s gaze was sharp, watching you with a kind of calculating curiosity, while Rose barely seemed to notice, her eyes distant and uninterested.

You exhaled slowly, making your way over to the seat next to Rafe. Your knees brushed against each other but he didn’t move his. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N. I’ve known her family for years, and after that everything’s happened, she’s going to stay with us. She’s been through a lot.”

“Mm-hmm,” Rose murmured, almost absentmindedly. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm, either.

Ward’s words seemed genuine, but you didn’t understand fully why he spoke so kindly. The two of you were practically strangers. Wheezie smiled brightly in reaction. Sarah, on the other hand, was looking you over even more closely than Rafe. You could see the thoughts swirling in your mind. 

“I have a question-” She blurted out.

Ward interrupted, “I’d watch yourself, young lady.” 

“I just want to make sure everything’s clear,” Sarah said softly, her voice quieter now. “I’m just... trying to understand why, that’s all. A marriage seems a little bit rushed, don’t you think? They didn’t even know each other before today.” 

“They didn’t?” Wheezie raised an eyebrow. 

The pressure in the room increased, “Sarah,” Ward began to warn her but it was Rafe who spoke up next. 

Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. “It’s not rushed, Sarah,” he said, turning to look at her. “It’s just what it is. No need to complicate it.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the sharpness of Rafe’s gaze making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. He answering for you, as if you didn’t have a say in how things were perceived.

Sarah didn’t flinch. Her eyes held a quiet defiance. As if to change the subject, Rafe continued, “What is that on your face, Wheeze?” 

“It’s called makeup,” She shot back, annoyed, “Y/N did it.”

Rafe turned his head towards you, “It’s a little much for someone her age, don’t you think?”

“I think she looks really pretty. I started wearing makeup way younger than her,” You responded quietly but honestly, “That’s how you, like, get good at it.” 

“See,” Wheezie stuck her tongue out at her older brother. 

Suddenly, you felt Rafe’s hand touch your knee underneath the table. The warmth of Rafe’s hand on your knee sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite focus on anything else. His touch was unexpected, as though he’d done it without thinking, and yet, there was something deliberate about the way he kept his hand resting there.

Dinner was officially served moments later. Rafe’s hand remained there on your knee as you all began to eat the carefully prepared steak, potatoes and asparagus. Your steak was already cut into a pieces, a luxury that you didn’t even know others experienced. 

Sarah pushed around her asparagus, “How do you feel about moving in with us so suddenly, Y/N? I mean, do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?”

You paused, unsure of what to say, your gaze instinctively shifting toward Rafe. His hand was still on your knee, but the grip felt firmer now, like he was holding you in place, keeping you from saying something that might upset the balance of things.

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but when you opened your mouth, it all just came tumbling out. “It’s kinda overwhelming,” you started, your voice soft but a little unsure. “I miss… I miss my Dad. And you guys have all this land, and this house is so huge, it’s hard to wrap my head around it all.” You glanced at Sarah, then back to your plate. “And, like, I didn’t think I’d get married this young, but… if it’s really what my Dad wanted…”

You trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed. Sarah’s gaze softened slightly, “It’s a big step. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Up until that point, you hadn’t realized you had a choice in all of this. You could see she wasn’t questioning you out of judgement. She almost looked concerned. 

“Enough, Sarah,” Ward spoke sharply, “This is bigger than what one person thinks is right. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s about responsibility. Rafe is growing up and he’s decided to take on new responsibilities. I don’t see why you can’t be supportive.” 

“I just think she deserves more time to decide,” Sarah said. 

“There isn’t a rush. I’m not rushing them, that’s for certain. Rafe and Y/N will take the time to get to know each other.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. You glanced at him and noticed the subtle shake of his head, as if dismissing the entire idea. “What’s the point in waiting? You can plan a wedding in a few weeks, right?” 

“Rafe, son, don’t you think two should spend some time together?”

“No, Dad, we’ll get married as soon as possible. If Y/N wants to have a real ceremony, Rose can plan it, but I’d be down to just go to the courthouse.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Rafe,” Sarah leaned forward in her seat, “Are you actually crazy?”

How did we get here? You had no answers, just a rush of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe you should’ve said something, but the lump in your throat made it hard to think. 

“We’ll figure it out” Rafe said, cutting her off. He turned his attention to you, his gaze intense but unreadable. “Right, darling?”

The way he looked at you made your stomach twist. It was as though he was asking you to confirm something you didn’t fully understand yourself. You opened your mouth to respond, but Wheezie chimed in before you could.

“Dude, that’s like, so not romantic!” she exclaimed, scrunching her nose. “You haven’t even proposed yet!”

Sarah seized the moment, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Exactly. At least ask her properly, Rafe. Or are you afraid she’ll say no?”

The air at the table grew heavier. You glanced at Ward, who looked ready to intervene, but Rafe beat him to it. His lips curled into a tight smile, though his eyes flashed with something darker. “You think I’m afraid of that, Sarah?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

All you could think about was the way Rafe’s hand hadn’t left your knee, his grip steady, as if anchoring you to him despite the chaos swirling around the table.

“Can we drop it, please?” Rafe asked, his tone deep and final. 

“I want Y/N to stay,” Wheezie decided. 

“We all want Y/N to stay,” Ward clarified.

“Well, good,” Rose chimed in, her smile polished and hollow. “Then it’s settled.”

At the end of dinner, Ward leaned back in his chair, addressing you, “You’ll find we take care of our own here, sweetheart. Anything you need, you only have to ask.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure what else to say.

“We should get going,” Rafe announced abruptly, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. His hand left your knee, only to find the small of your back as he helped you up. 

Wheezie pouted. “But we haven’t even had dessert!”

“Next time, Wheeze,” Rafe replied, his tone firm. “Come on, Y/N.”

You followed him out of the dining room, feeling the eyes of his entire family on your back. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, trying to keep up with Rafe’s long strides. He’d given you his jacket and asked you to put on your boots, before guiding you out the front door. You clutched the jacket tightly, the night beginning to turn cool. The sky was still heavy with the remnants of rain but an orange and pink sun began to lower in the sky, peaking behind soft, gray clouds, “Rafe?” 

High grass tickled the bare legs hidden beneath your skirt as you walked into the fields, “Just for a walk. That okay with you?”

“You know, sometimes I think you really don’t care what’s okay with me.” Rafe flashed you an amused look, “Oh yeah? Maybe I like making decisions for you.” 

You snorted in disbelief but your heart fluttered nonetheless. 

"What's the real reason you brought me out here?" You asked, pushing the conversation forward despite the tension. 

Rafe stopped and turned to face you, his expression unreadable for a moment. He studied you, like he was considering his words carefully. "Maybe I just wanted to see you without all the noise around us. No distractions. Just you and me."

The ranch stretched out before you, vast and quiet. The ground beneath your feet was soft as you walked, fast enough to follow Rafe’s steps. A faint hum of crickets began to rise in the distance. 

A modest building tucked near the tree line, far from the main house came into view, “That’s the ranch hand’s quarters,” Rafe explained, “You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman.” 

The sun continued to hang lower as you walked, casting a golden hue over the land. Rafe led you further into the sprawling escape, pointing out different landmarks, “This land’s been my family’s for generations. But my Dad was the one who made it what it was today. It’s very important to me. This land and all the hard work that’s put into it.” 

“My dad’s tough on me but it’s his legacy, you know? It’s more than just making money or raising cattle. I don’t know, I just want to protect what I have. Make sure my kids and my grandkids have it, ya' know?”

He didn’t look for your understanding, his words genuine, but the look on his face was guarded. He paused, his jaw tightening slightly, “You don’t to get to be part of something big and not feel like you’ve got to give everything you have to it.”

“What if…” Your voice trailed as you tried to collect your thoughts, “How do I know it’s something I want to be apart of?” 

“As my wife, you’d stand beside me. You’d build with me. Raise our children. Make a home. You’d make everything that I’m working towards, worth it. That’s a life with purpose, yeah?” 

As he spoke, his voice deep and steady, you found yourself drawn to the way his features seemed to soften, despite the intensity of his words. Those blue eyes were focused on you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. 

He stood taller now, the weight of his words pressed in on you and you could see the full picture he was painting. It wasn’t just the land. It was you. It was him. It was a family. 

“Yeah,” You agreed, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to his lips. They were slightly parted, the edge of his mouth curling just a bit as he spoke, and for a moment, you forgot where you were.

“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, a knowing look on his face, and his hand found the small of your back, “I owe you something, don’t I?”

“Owe me?” Your voice faltered. What was he talking about? 

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply pulled you forward, his hand firm against your back as he guided you through the tall grass. You didn’t have time to question him before the two of you reached a secluded barn, tall and clay-colored, tucked far away from the main house. The air smelled faintly of hay and wood, the earthy scent of the ranch settling around you. But you barely had time to take in your surroundings before Rafe was pulling you into him. His hand slid to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, until his lips were on yours. 

The kiss Rafe Cameron had promised you. 

All those thoughts you had about the land, the future, everything he’d said, it all slipped away. 

Someone, something, had overtaken you. Something ached inside of you, a part of your very being that had never been satisfied. You felt like an animal, desperate, grabbing at Rafe’s shirt, wanting him closer. He was already pressed tightly against you but deep down you wanted more. 

His lips weren’t as gentle as you remembered, they enveloped your mouth, his tongue tasting you, his arms keeping you where he wanted as he explored you.Without warning, he tugged you into an empty stall, the scent of hay and leather thick in the air. His hands were at the edges of your jacket now, pulling it open, his fingers brushing against your skin as the cool air of the barn nipped at your exposed flesh. 

A startled yelp escaped your lips as you felt his hands bunching up your skirt, the fabric sliding higher until it was gathered above your hips. Your eyes flew open, but Rafe was relentless, his mouth still claiming yours with fervent, unyielding kisses. You didn’t know exactly how babies were made but you had a feeling you were getting closer than you’d ever had before. Before you could process it, Rafe lifted you effortlessly, his hands sliding to cup your bottom as he held you tightly against him. Part of you began to panic. 

Then, with deliberate care, he laid you down. not on the rough ground but on his jacket, which was spread beneath you. Darkened eyes met your panicked ones. This was much more than a kiss. Although you’d enjoyed that part of the exchange, you weren’t sure you wanted more, “Rafe,” You whispered, your voice uncertain, as he moved his mouth from your lips to the sides of your mouth. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations. You pushed at his chest and felt you were pushing against a boulder. There would know way to get from underneath him, even if you tried, “Are… you gonna put a baby in me?”

He paused, lifting his head to look you in the eye and you had to remind yourself to breathe in that moment, “Jesus Christ. You’re something else, you know that?” Rafe grinned and some of your uncertainty went away. His reaction made the moment feel more lighthearted, like there wasn’t a boundary being crossed, like his intentions were innocent.

“I like the kissing,” You admitted, “It feels good b-but I’m scared–”

Rafe shushed you, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline, until he reached the side of your neck. Your thighs clenched tightly, your head tilted back, and you couldn’t control your moaning. Rafe spread your legs with his own, his jeans brushing against the smoothness of your thighs. He pressed his lower half into you and you felt something as hard as a rock, rubbing against your panties. It was then, your core started to feel like it was on fire. 

“Don’t be scared, it’ll just hurt for a moment,” Rafe spoke against your skin, huskily, his voice almost sounding like he was in pain, “You’re just gonna lay still for me, I need you to help me to take care of something.”

“Hurt?” You questioned, your mind hanging on that word. Then you thought back to your question. He hadn’t really answered. 

He seemed to ignore you again, his mouth moving lower on your body. He pulled your shirt down, and as your breasts spilled from their constraints, he left kisses on your nipples. Your head tilted back again when he took one of your nipples fully into his mouth, “Rafe,” You whispered but the sound of his name only seem to push him further. His fingers traced the edge of your panties before he slipped his fingers inside, brushing over your folds. You were wet down there, you realized, and mostly out of embarrassment, you started to pull away, “Please don’t touch me there.” 

You watched his pupils dilate as he stared down at you intently. He kept one hand in your underwear and wrapped his other around your throat, quickly, as if his body was reacting instinctively to your defiance. 

“Don’t tell me that,” Rafe said, almost growling, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to push away his hand as you struggled to breathe, “I have to touch ya' here, darlin’. I’m gonna be your husband. This belongs to me, understand?” 

Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles over your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked in reaction and you silenced your moans, knowing you only had so much air to breathe, “Say you understand. Say yes.” 

You nodded your head quickly, “Yes,” You whispered. 

You were grateful when he loosed his grip around your throat, “It’s a good thing you’re wet. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just means this is what your body wants, baby. You already want to make me happy.” 

You weren’t quite sure at what moment your body decided to freeze. Your nerves were overwhelmed, of course, and it seemed like you’d come out less scathed from the situation if you did as Rafe said. You could stay still and take it. There was something happening with Rafe you didn’t understand but he was acting as though he needed something and you were only one who could provide it. You could stay still and take it if it would make him happy, right? It’s a good thing to make other people happy. 

You focused on the kisses on your lips, the way his soft mouth moved methodically over yours. The faint jangle of metal pulled you back to the moment, a sound you barely registered until you felt the press of something impossibly hard, slowly pushing against a place you hadn’t realized could take him. His manhood, you assumed, what made him different from you. It hurt like he said it would but not for just a moment. Were all manhoods this size? This is what your body really wants? 

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the edge of strain. His hand brushed over your trembling thigh, steadying you as your body tried to accommodate him. “You’re okay. I promise.”

He started to rock into you once you felt completely full to the brim. Initially, it felt even worse than him pushing all the way inside you. Tears fell and your breath grew rapid, “It hurts,” You whimpered, “It really hurts.”

“It’s okay,” He said, maintaining his pace, “You’re okay, darlin’. You’re doing great. It’s just your first time. Gotta get used to me, that's all.” 

“Are-are you putting a baby in me, Rafe?” You asked, your voice an innocent whisper. His grip on you tightened as his rhythm grew more deliberate, his words spilling out in a low growl.

“Fuck yes, darlin’,” he said, his voice thick with unrestrained desire. “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

His hands, his words, the pain between your legs that was slowly turning to pleasure, it made you dizzy, and you couldn’t keep track of your thoughts. You belonged to him? A baby? It didn’t make sense, but part of you felt comforted by the intensity of him. You trusted he knew more. Everything’s okay. You were okay. It felt like something you were supposed to be, so you let go and let him have you.

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

[leashybebes]

I feel so mean but I want to know how Buck reacted when he opened his fridge and saw that Tommy bought CHAMPAGNE, clearly planning to celebrate...

(I like breaking my own heart, it's my biggest Tommy trait of all...)

ohhhh that IS mean, i love it.

When Tommy walks out - again - Buck just stands for a long moment, once again wondering how things between them can be so, so good, and then can go south so fast. Because he's pretty sure Tommy was going to stay, long enough to eat breakfast at least, and then longer than that. And then Tommy said something really fucking stupid, and Buck said something really fucking mean and then - then he was just gone.

God damn it.

Not quite sure what else to do, Buck picks up the coffee Tommy had poured for him and takes a sip. Perfect. It's perfect. It's been months, and Tommy can still make Buck's coffee just like he likes it. It feels like it should mean something, but - but Tommy's not here. Maybe that's who he is - maybe that's as much as they'll ever have. Shallow moments of connection that feel like they mean more. Incredible sex. Talking past each other until they hit on a soft spot too painful to process properly, and Tommy walks out.

Tommy's always leaving, and Buck's always being left, and he's suddenly so, so tired.

The breakfast that had smelled so good when Buck first registered it holds no appeal. He tries a slice of bacon anyway, because he hates wasting food, and just like the coffee it's perfect. Just like the coffee, the perfection feels unearned and unstable and like it's just begging Buck to read too much into it. When he'd walked into the kitchen and seen Tommy, tired but gorgeous in the soft morning light, when he'd seen the veritable feast laid out across the worktop, he'd been rocked right off his feet and back into their six months together. Felt spoiled and adored and looked after and like it meant something. 

Fuck it, though, he thinks to himself. Maybe it just meant Tommy was hungry. They sure did wear each other out last night. He gathers up the fruit, the bagels, transfers the hot food to a single dish, digs out some saran wrap from one of the boxes Tommy had half unpacked and moves mechanically, covering plates and dishes to keep the food fresh even though he already knows there's almost no chance he'll be able to choke any of it down without seeing Tommy's ghost in the edges of his vision, filling up the kitchen of Buck's new place with missed opportunities, just like he did to the old place.

When the food's condensed and covered, it feels less meaningful. It's just leftovers. God, it's all just leftovers.

Buck opens the fridge to start putting things away and almost drops a plate. 

Because there, in his empty fridge, is a bottle of champagne. He stares for a long, long moment, but it doesn't go anywhere. Doesn't transform itself into a less obvious drink, doesn't magically become a bottle of juice or a carton of milk.

Tommy went to the store and must have paid well over the odds, because that place a few roads over is probably as far as he could have gone, and it's daylight fucking robbery in there, and he bought champagne.

There's no way, Buck thinks, feeling hopeful and heartbroken and angry and confused and regretful and desperate and like he's missed a step in the dark again, there's no way that means nothing.

It means Tommy lied about having a shift. It means Tommy wanted to celebrate. It means Tommy thought they'd have something to celebrate. It means they probably would have tumbled back into bed a couple hours from now, well-fed and a little tipsy. It means Tommy didn't want to leave. 

It means he left anyway, leaving pieces of himself behind like he always does.

Buck takes a breath, moves the bottle aside, and starts loading up the fridge.

[siolixz]

'*•.¸♡ FATHER FIGURE ♡¸.•*'

Being Lucy's sister came with a lot of perks: good food, nice places to stay at- a rich handsome multimillionaire falling madly in love with you. Did I mention the rich handsome multimillioanire?

pairing: harry castillo x reader (Lucy's sister)

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

context: just fluff and romcom scenarios, older man x younger woman, everyone is over 18 and fully consenting; words: 3k I hope you will enjoy and pls tell me if you like it or tell me if you don't- I will probably write a part 2 with smut if it is well received. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ I will probably write the smut anyways tho loll Yes i have put a George Michael song name as the title put me in jail or whatever. Also I have no idea if his name is Randy or Harry so oh well, who cares hes so sexy.

It was a beautiful day in New York that welcomed you right back here in this city, looking across the cafe for your Lucy. 

You slept in today, after a long plane ride and a longer ride to your sister's apartment you had to get your rest for the days ahead- and for the wedding. Because of spring break and because she received a plus one invitation to one of her glorious matchmaking results- her ninth to be more precise, you just had to join her in New York for the week ahead. You didn’t have anything else better to do, plus, you missed her. 

She smiled at your sleepy face as you sat down in front of her.

As the coffee arrived you finally had some time to catch up on life, on your school and on her job. More importantly, how could John ever break up with her? She’s successful, she's beautiful and she’s brilliant. You told her that you were hoping she could finally get a guy who actually deserves her.

“I hope your wedding will be the tenth-” you started.

“Maybe it will be yours princess, did you think of that?” She smirked at you, clearly enjoying the banter you two were so used to having. 

“So that’s why you called me here- to set me up with someone?” you leaned across the table “Because I’m taking the first plane back to college if that's the case.”  There’s nothing more embarrassing than your own sister setting you up, I mean you could get a date if you tried but the boys back at school are, lacking.. certain qualities you were hoping for in a man.

She laughed at your expression, knowing you were being sarcastic and joking but also not really.  You could hardly hear each other anymore as more people came into the cafe.

She grabbed the hand you had on the table as she said: “You’ve grown so much- I’m so happy you're here with me.”

All day long you walked across New York City, first it was dress shopping- you probably tried on like 10 dresses before picking a gorgeous green floor length dress and your sister a blue dress. She covered everything like the great older sister she is and on you went towards Sephora to get everything you might need or just plain wanted- perks of having an older sister with money- and then it was take out time back home; feet sore and exhausted. You loved and hated being in this city, but you could clearly see why Lucy wanted to live here. So many people, so many stories to tell. You two took a nap and then by late afternoon you were out again for dinner with some of her friends and then for a walk in central park. 

“You know, I think tomorrow is going to be really special.” she linked your arms together as you passed people. 

“Really?” you turned the upper part of your body towards your sister as you walked. “In what way may I ask?”

“Like in a good way; maybe you’ll meet someone.” she whispered the last part “Or maybe in a bad way.” She turned away from you like she was thinking.  “Last time we were at a wedding together, you were very little- remember you got that stomach bug-”

“Ugh don’t remind me Lucy” you grimaced at her macabre reminiscing while she laughed in your face “We just ate-” 

The wedding was truly beautiful, the bride and groom looked great together and the food was completely out of this world. The groom was a finance guy, so it made sense that the wedding would be held in a grandiose style, I mean they had a chocolate fountain for god sake. And free gifts for people- free gifts!

You and Lucy talked with some people, ate some food from the candy bar while gossiping and danced a little bit but you had to take a break as ‘Cupid’ herself was socializing with acquaintances. You texted some of your friends, one from childhood and two from college- all ecstatic about the amazing things there. You had to remember to get Maddy a necklace as her birthday was coming up and Mark asked if you could get him a lucky cat doll and also-

“Is this seat taken?” 

You looked up at the owner of the voice, “Um, no- no it’s not.”

Um, yes it was, your sister was seated there- who even is this?

The stranger sat on the chair, turned his whole body to look at you and placed his hand under his head- like he was engaged in the most passionate discussion. 

From this position you could finally see the man up close- this must be the groom's best friend. Your sister told you as you sat down during the ceremony, even if you were seated far away, you could remember him now. He was right next to the groom.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you-”

“No, it’s okay-” Now you’re interrupting him, please stop.

He smiled at you, endeared by your attempt at alienating his worries. His smile reached his eyes and the corners wrinkled, like a testament of this strange man’s seasoned life. He looked at you in an almost parental fashion like he already knew you- wait, do you know him? 

Your sister has a bunch of friends and acquaintances around New York, maybe you did know him. “Do we know each other?” 

“No, I don’t believe we have met.” 

He had this air about him, like he was so comfortable and sure of himself. He smiled again at you, like he knew something you did not, was there something on your teeth?

“My name is Harry, it’s nice to meet you, miss…” You told him your name and he repeated it. 

Why was your heart beating so fast? Maybe because he was very, very handsome. 

“Would you like a drink?” he said your name again and you forgot all about the phone buzzing in your hand.

“Um..”

You looked across the ornate ballroom for your sister for a second.

“Wait, you’re old enough to drink, right?” His smile faltered for a second but he quickly regained it as you reassured him that you were indeed, old enough to drink. 

He ordered a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him and while you chatted, he asked about what you were doing in New York and how you knew the bride and the groom.

“You’re the matchmaker’s sister.” he pointed at you and you teared your gaze away from his beautiful brown eyes to notice the green ring on his finger. 

“I am.”

He must’ve noticed you looking at it as he too, looked at it- then at you and remarked:

“Green is my favorite color.”

This handsome man was clearly hitting on you, but why? You haven’t chatted with anyone this evening besides your sister and some basic chit-chat with the bride. He must’ve singled you out of the crowd as only a man with experience could have probably. Well it wasn’t going to end how he hoped, with you in his bed and him never calling you again. You weren’t born yesterday nor were you that desperate, no matter how handsome he was nor how tall and big he was compared to you-

No, you’re not going anywhere with him, you’re here for and with your sister. Speaking of which-

“I see you’ve made some friends.” She smiled as she came closer and introduced herself to Harry. Harry. What a beautiful name. 

As he turned his head towards her you looked at the curls he had at the base of his neck and thought you could never look at someone more handsome- his face looked like it was sculpted!

She made some polite conversation and It wasn’t long before she had to excuse you two in order to introduce you to some people there.

So in about 2 minutes- you said your goodbye’s and you left him there, silently hoping that maybe he could call out your name as you walked away or run after you and tell you he is madly in love with you ‘please don’t go’ - you audibly giggled next to your sister as you walked away, amused entirely by your schoolgirl-like-dreams as she gave you an odd look.

It was the cosmopolitan’s fault, you were sure.

As the night wore on you tried to see him again but to no avail; he must’ve left with some pretty model or gorgeous woman- the thought left an emptiness in your stomach you couldn’t shake for the whole night.

You were woken up by the sunrays on your face and by an immense amount of thirst that left your throat feeling like you scratched it all night long. You grabbed your phone instinctively and after about 30 minutes of coming back to life you finally got up.

As you entered the living room you saw your older sister on the phone and gave her a small wave.

She nodded her head at you as you walked into the kitchen to grab some ice cold water. 

Why was everything so hot in this apartment? 

After she finished her phone call you could finally debrief with her about last night's events, the most important of those things was definitely her meeting up with John again.

“Life just finds a way I guess.” you told her as she grabbed a coke from the fridge.

“Yeah, I guess.” She opened the can, took a sip and said “By the way, I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah, what?” You couldn’t deny the way your heart jumped a little bit- maybe a bit more.

“I have a date for you.”

“Lucy, no..” you groaned. Was it with him? God let it be him.

“Hear me out, ok? I have to be at a girlfriend's house this evening and I want you to go, I would hate for you to be inside while I go have fun- plus you don’t have to go on a second date or anything, this is just for fun- no expectations, ok?” She pleaded with her eyes at you.

“I can’t say anything about this guy, but you have a lot in common, he is also a student like you- maybe you can bond over that.”

The day dragged on until 5pm when you had to get ready, you were hoping this guy wasn’t some snob or insufferable, but you trusted your sister. A short red dress and heels would suffice, as you were going to quite a fancy restaurant on the upper east side. When you arrived you said your name to the waiter and sat down at one of the beautiful velvet booths and ordered a glass of water for yourself. Being alone in a place as fancy as this, you did feel quite out of place a little bit.

On to wait for that guy to show up, even though you arrived on time.

Traffic in New York is horrible, so maybe he is fashionably late. 

He was not fashionably late as 45 minutes had passed and you were still alone, you could see people glance at you between the sounds of silverware- pitying you.

Or maybe no one cared, it was hard to tell- especially because you were so embarrassed. 

Your fingers itched for your phone, to text Lucy a 'I told you so'. Netflix and pajamas sounded infinitely better than this empty booth and the pitying glances. God you wish you were home right now, not dressed so fancy and looking so good only to be stood up.

The waiter came back, probably to ask you if anyone is coming. 

No, no one is coming.

“Is this seat taken?”

You looked up in bewilderment and met the gorgeous brown eyes of last night's enamourment. Harry was looking down at you, an amused look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, almost too loud in this fancy setting. “No, no it’s not.” Your heart started beating fast as he sat down in front of you, he looked even more handsome in the dimmed yellow lights of this restaurant.

He took off his dress jacket and placed it on the chair, you couldn't help but stare at the way his big arms looked, he was a very big man, so handsome too-

“I was having a meeting with my business partner and I looked across the room and there you were. “ He smiled at you like he did last night.

You were happy to see him, very happy.

“What are you doing here, Cinderella?” 

“I was waiting for someone, some guy my sister set me up with- he didn’t show up.” You leaned across the table so only he could hear what you said, not the old couple next to you two as well. 

“What an idiot.” He leaned close to you as well and you could smell his cologne “Well it’s good I am here now, right? We can carry on last night's conversation.” 

As you two ordered food, he asked you what you were studying. 

“Psychology. I have a scholarship.” 

“So you’re beautiful and smart.” He placed the napkin he received across his lap and you felt your ears get warm- you hoped the lights in this restaurant would dim the blush on your face as well. “Do you like what you are studying?” 

“Yes I do. I truly want to start my own clinic back home and help people.” You must’ve talked for like some full minutes about your degree and dreams while he asked you questions. He seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying, like he wanted to learn as much as he could about you.

He told you he would like to be your first pacient when you do become a psychologist and you laughed.

Harry was a funny man, very charming as well, though he had a way of turning a phrase to escape any sort of mention towards his private life, you wondered why that is. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you played with the short hem of your dress under the table. 

“Of course, anything you want.” He took a sip of his drink as he looked at you. His hands looked so big around the glass.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but may I ask how old you are?” you could find in his eyes a touch of mischief, like he was thinking of something funny to say so he could see you smile.

“24.” he said. With the most monotone voice he could muster and with a straight face.

“24?” you asked, knowing he was messing around with you but deciding to play into his game. 

“Yes, I lived a rough couple of years as you can see. What’s so funny?” he asked you, faking being angry at your smiling face.

“Nothing.” you tried to hide your smile.

“You better not be laughing at my life story.”

“I’m really not.” you put on your serious face.

A man came by your table as the waiter started bringing dessert, and Harry got up to greet him, the man shook Harry’s hand and thanked him, before he left he gave you a polite smile and a ‘good night’ to both of you as he exited the restaurant with his wife or girlfriend. 

“Old friend.” Harry said as he sat back down again “He just bought an apartment complex.”

“Wow, he must be rich.” 

“Very rich indeed.” he took the spoon from next to the plate and cut through the lava cake he was brought. “Like this chocolate.”

 “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to dance with me yesterday” He looked at you again and you wanted to die inside when you remembered that you left him.  "You missed out," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm quite the dancer."

"Oh, really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. 

"Don’t worry. I'm a fast learner. I won’t let you get away twice"

"Is that a threat?" you asked.

"A promise," he corrected you as he took a bite of the dessert.

Harry asked for your number by the end of the night and you gave it to him, of course you did.

As he told the waiter that he should put the dinner on his tab you protested, but he would have none of it. He said that this was the most fun he had in a while as he got up and watched you exit the booth. 

“Let me take you home-” He started as he let you walk ahead of him; you tried to ignore the way he looked at you; like he was still hungry.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, I’ll call an uber.” He helped you put on your jacket before he opened the door for you.

A soft breeze danced around the streets of the city at this late hour- you hugged your jacket closer to you. You didn’t want your meeting to end, but it had to. 

“Nonsense, let me take you home, c’mon.” He climbed the steps before you and turned around so your eyes could meet at the same level. His dark hair, with its natural waves, framed his face and the silver streak in his hair reminded you of something- he was so handsome, how was he so handsome? He smelled great too.

You smiled at him, maybe the drink you had inside made you this courageous. 

“You never told me how old you are.” Everyone passing by you two must think you were drunk by the way you were smiling at each other. He grabbed your hands in his much bigger ones and pressed them close together, like one might do to a child to make them listen- butterflies danced across your stomach again because of the sudden intimacy.

Harry’s smile faltered slightly and he adopted a more serious expression before lowering his voice and telling you: “I’m 49 years old.”

His deep brown eyes searched your face, like wanting to remember it before you start showing any signs of discomfort. 

You wanted to say something, before he interrupted you “If you are uncomfortable, I promise, I’ll take you home and I’ll never say-”

“And If I am not?” you spoke over him. 

His eyebrows relaxed back on his face as relief washed over his expression and a smile slowly started spreading across his lips. His eyes twinkled under the light above you two from the entrance of the restaurant and he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you.

“I’ll take you home then.”

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this for you and for me. I hope you have a great day and wish u de best.

If you are one of my long time followers, I just wanna say im sorry that I havent written anything in quite a while, but life got in the way and I just couldn't find any inspiration to give you something actually good. But I am back now! And to stay for good this time unless stated otherwise. ILY

[kuurechr]

Satoru barged into your dorm, no warning ahead of time, so he was surprised to see Shoko on your bed, slathering a face mask on you, as Nanami sat with his back against the bed, on the floor reading as his face mask was drying on his face.

"You guys are having a fun night without me?!" Satoru exclaimed, feigning pain as he held onto his heart. "I thought you were my best friends?"

"Who told you that?" Nanami grumbled, before looking over at you. "Where's Ijichi? He's late, is he on a mission?"

"Ijichi isn't going on missions anymore, I told him not to," Satoru said, sliding next to Nanami, looking over his shoulder to see what he was reading.

Nanami shut his book. "Why would you do that?"

"What're you reading, porn?" Satoru said with a scowl, as Nanami put his book away.

"Answer the question Satoru," you chided, reaching over to your dresser to take out a sheet mask for Shoko.

"He'd die out on missions. He's better off as an assistant."

"Why would you do that to him?" Shoko asked. "He'd already barely gone out on missions last year."

"Duh," Satoru mocked. "Because he'd die if he went out on a mission for a curse higher than a fourth grade. You guys know��I'm right."

You huffed. "Yeah, that's probably what's best for him, but you probably didn't put it very nicely."

Satoru shrugged, evading the accusation. "He's probably stuck doing paperwork. Which means there's room for one more today!"

"There's room for you any day," you reminded him. "However, you're rarely here. And I thought you were dealing with a special grade today."

"It was a first grade," Satoru huffed. "But it was in the North Pole, so that slowed me down a bit. It's really cold there, you know?"

"Sometimes I forget you didn't get elementary level schooling," Nanami deadpanned.

"And yet somehow he's about to be a parent," Shoko commented. "How's the adoption process going?"

"Yaga's dealing with most of it," Satoru answered, leaning his head back. "I don't even know if I'll have time to properly take care of them. They're like 6 and 7? They can function pretty well on their own by then, right?"

Everyone in the room instantly glared at Satoru, and he put his hands up in defence. "Okay, okay, I know, I was kidding. You guys think so little of me. But seriously you all better be good at babysitting, especially at random hours."

"Well, you're doing a good thing," you reassured him. "So of course, everyone's open to help." Satoru thanked you, genuinely sincere before quickly switching up and teasing Nanami for what he was reading. As the two argued, Shoko closed her eyes, falling back on your bed, and it made you think.

"Hey guys?" Shoko opened her eyes, looking over at you. The boys both turned their heads to look at you, clearly pondering something. "What are you planning on doing? After you graduate. And for a while after that?"

"What's bringing that question on?" Shoko asked.

"I mean, I don't know. Obviously the adopting part is going to be a big part of it. But what are we going to do?"

"I mean, there's not many options for a jujutsu sorcerer," Satoru reasoned. "I'll just keep going on missions as I'm assigned to them. That should keep me busy till I'm old. Shoko, you're a bit different right? You're too useful to leave as an assistant but your cursed technique doesn't really put you in a fighting stance."

"Yeah you're right," Shoko agreed. "Yaga talked to me about it back when I first got scouted, actually. I'll become a school doctor. I want to get my license first though. Y/N, you're continuing taking missions?"

"Yeah, of course," you answered. "Nanami, you too?"

"I don't know," Nanami scratched the back of his head. "Sometimes I feel like I'm going to quit. This sorcery shit is exhausting. And I've only been at it for three years. How did the two of you survive for this long?"

"Well I wasn't fighting curses at age 3."

"I was." You all glared at Satoru again. "What?! I'm Gojou Satoru! Of course I was kicking curses asses!"

"Alright well, back to the kids," you said. "You've met them, right? I'm sure they're gonna be hard to get along with at first; they've been through a lot, right? God, where were they even living before? What's wrong with Toji, how could he just completely ditch them?!"

Satoru placed a hand on your calf. "Alright, don't freak out. They live in this really crappy apartment. Apparently, they left them enough money for that. But the older girl did all the chores, and helped Megumi with it. Megumi collected water from places he'd found clean water, apparently, because they couldn't pay their water bill. And the lights don't work, so I'm guessing it will freeze or burn depending on the weather. We got them out of there immediately though. They're staying with Yaga right now."

"Why can't Yaga continue to do that?" Nanami asked. "Why does it have to be you who takes them in?"

"It doesn't have to be me," Satoru answered. "It's my choice. They're with us because it was my decision. So it should be my responsibility to make sure they're okay."

Nanami nodded. Shoko chuckled. "I'm surprised Satoru. You're sounding like a good person."

"I'm going to rip that mask off your face."

"Now that sounds like Sato-! No, wait, I have five more minutes!"

[februarysmoonlight]

not today, maybe tomorrow

aka your childhood best friend (and crush) came back… different.

———

you’ve been patching up jason for a long time.

it started when you were both just kids. he’d come to you with the injuries he didn’t want to show his father, and you, who had experience in patching people up, were happy to help. mostly you were eager to spend any time with him he would give, even if that meant brutal gunshots and ugly stab wounds. you refused to admit to yourself that you had a ginormous crush on him— but you did. it was a secret that sat on your chest like an elephant: you are in love with jason todd.

then he died, and that excitement became grief. you became a nurse, fixing people up for a living because it was the only thing you were really good at. you spent years just… stuck. stuck on him, stuck in the past, stuck wishing he didn’t die.

and then jason came back, and it was just different.

the first time, he stumbled in through your apartment window, bleeding buckets from a bullet lodged in his shoulder. he failed to come to you as red hood (because you pointed a tiny little revolver at him and he was in no position to leave), so you were the first one who saw him as jason. still, he refused to say a word. not when you cried so hard your hands shook, not in the hours you spent fixing him up, not when you begged him to stay, to come back.

you didn’t see him after that for nearly six months. you were starting to think it was a dream. you had all but convinced yourself the blood on your windowsill came from your own hands, that this version of jason was a cruel manifestation of just how much you missed him.

but it happened again, and again, his visits growing more frequent as time went on. before, he only came to you when he was circling the drain. now all it takes is a deep cut in the arm for him to request aid from your gentle hands. he spoke almost exclusively in its better than it looks, and thank you’s, but at least he spoke.

you hate this arrangement. you really do. you want jason, all of him, your friend, and the boy you loved back. you want him to actually speak, talk to you like he’s your friend and not your patient. you’re tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to put a bandaid on his injuries. you’re tired of dropping everything to get nothing in return. but what’s the alternative? losing him? not when you just got him back.

not when you love him so much. so much your chest hurts when you think about what would happen if you asked for more.

but it’s draining. being jason’s on call personal doctor— no matter how much you care about him, you’re not sure how much you have left in you.

“my therapist said i need to start saying no to you. put myself first.” you say, pulling the thread through jason’s wound, sewing it closed.

“smart lady. you should listen to her.” he says, flickering his eyes up to yours.

“you wouldn’t come back if i stopped sewing you up.”

“that’s not true.”

you don’t respond to that. it’s too vulnerable, the way his eyes chase yours while you stare down at the gash on his arm, running a sewing needle back and forth through his skin. you don’t know what to think, it’s far too late and you’re far too tired to have any idea what it is you want from him.

you’re scared. scared that if you stop doing this for him you’ll lose him all over again. scared that you’re nothing more than a private medic. scared that the moment you ask for more than 2 am visits and blood stained carpets you’ll get left behind.

he sighs, pulling you out of your head just as you finish the last stitch. you cut the thread with a pair of grooming scissors, tying a small knot to keep everything in place. you look up at him, noting the frown firmly tugging at his features, and the defeated expression in his eye.

“you’re good to go.” you say, leaning back, putting your supplies back into your first aid kit, wiping the blood on your hands against the white box.

“thank you.”

he stands with a small groan, slipping back into his costume. you focus on cleaning up, refusing to look up at him as he walks back towards the window where he came, his combat boots scraping against the floor.

“i’ll come back.” he says, quietly, with his hands hooked under the windowsill.

sure you will you think, but instead you simply nod, keeping your eyes trained on the blood stains in your carpet. you know if you look back up at him the tears stinging your eyes will spill, and you’ll lose the scraps of jason you’re so determined to keep.

he sighs, pushing himself through the window, and just like that, he’s gone. just like the first time, the only confirmation you have that he is real are the droplets of blood running down your fingertips.

you wait for him to come back. one hour, one night, one week. you feel stupid, hoping so desperately he’ll come when you know he won’t. at least, not without a near-fatal wound you have to magically heal. anxiety overwhelms any thoughts of him— did you scare him off? was that moment too much for him?

you feel like such an idiot, that is, until he returns. you don’t expect it to be him when you open the door. because it’s only six p.m and he’s… at the door… and not breaking and entering through your window…

but, to your surprise, it’s him.

jason, who isn’t making eye contact and you can only assume it has something to do with how absolutely rigid his stance is. jason, who is white knuckling a bouquet of lilies with one hand and a bag of takeout from your favorite guilty pleasure restaurant with the other. you didn’t realize he remembered your favorites, not after all this time.

“ah- shit.” he says, looking up at you with those ice blue eyes. this is the first time in… you can’t even remember how long that he’s come to you just as jason, no red hood attached.

“jason?” you ask, your eyebrows knitting unconsciously together. he looks back down, mumbling something along the lines of i look like a jackass.

“i’m late.” he says, looking back up to you. you swallow down a wad of spit that resembles your overwhelming anxiety. you can feel the crush that you can never seem to kick bubbling up again, fighting to spill over the surface, as your eyes go back and forth from the flowers, the food, and him.

you nod, staring at him blankly, unsure of what to expect. he awkwardly shoves the bouquet towards you, taking a breath.

“i told you i’d come back.” he says, while you take the flowers from his hand. it’s not a cheap grocery store bouquet either, the flowers are fresh and perky, arranged professionally with baby’s breath, the stems cut carefully at an angle.

you look up at him, gently bringing the lilies to your nose. “are you hurt?” you ask, because honestly, you’re confused as to why jason would be here without a knife jammed in his back.

he grimaces, shaking his head. “no, i— fuck. i’m fine, i just— i wanted to say… look, i’m sorry.”

your eyes widen. you lower the flowers and press them against your stomach, confused and nervous and excited all at once. “…for?” you prompt, tilting your head.

he sighs, forcing the words out like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “i’ve been a real asshole. i, uh… i should’ve been treating you better, y’know, not waking you up ‘cause i’m bleeding just enough to get to see you. not leaving you behind over and over.” he omits the part that some nights he’s less careful than others because he wants to see you so badly it hurts. “‘cause…” he starts, taking a deep breath. “i really care about you. and it took me way too long to get my head out of my ass and realize you deserve better. and a week ago, that meant getting the hell out of your life before i ruined it. today that means doing everything i can to make it up to you.”

your heart beats faster than you can bare, your eyes wide. you feel like you’re falling, your stomach doing somersaults as he speaks. just about everything you’ve wanted him to say just fell from his lips, and you don’t know what to say in return.

luckily, he’s not done.

“i brought you the food and the flowers, ‘cause i didn’t want to spring too much on you. i figured i’d wait for you to decide whether or not you hate me before i ask you out on a proper date.” he says, looking up at you.

oh.

now it’s your turn to speak. you don’t know what to say— you’re on cloud nine because the boy you’ve had a crush on for nearly a decade is asking you out. all you can do is look up at him like a complete idiot, while his expression grows more and more nervous.

“would you like to come in?” you ask, finally pushing the words out, praying you don’t sound too gleeful.

for the first time in years, you see him smile. part of its relief, that much you know, but there’s this unfamiliar look in his eye that tells you it’s much, much more. he relaxes, letting his shoulders fall back.

“lead the way.”

———

pause i just want to thank y’all SO MUCH for all the love on my previous fics. i’ve had this acc for like a week and i am so grateful for all of the notes and reblogs and people who have been so kind as to follow me !! this account really is just to force me to write and like… have hobbies so y’all interacting means so much <3 i hope you enjoyed this one !! tysm!!

[randomshyperson]

Butchered Tongue - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The Halloween Disturbances separate Wanda from her wife, who, intrigued, begins to take a closer look at the anomalous activities in Westview. Or the one where you discover Westview isn't what it seems, Agatha loses her temper, and Death makes an appearance. 

Warnings: (+18), there’s smut at the beginning (sub!wanda, hints of power dynamics, enchanted strap, creampie, dirty talk), mentions of magical manipulation, Westview canon compliance, agathario being agathario, dark and traditional magic, mentions of attempted magical resurrection, a lot of canon angst ‘cause why not, nothing bad ever happen to kids denial is a river | Words: 7.060k

A/N-> “Why this has an open ending, mary?” Well for start, this is a test. I’m writing a long fic that rewrites and inserts reader into westview drama and I wanted to see how further I could dive into this subject and also bring agathario angst. I liked it very very much but this work here I actually had a lot of fun writing it and i wanted to share it with everyone. I hope people tell me what they thought of it, if you all would rather have a story for the beginning with all the scenes of them together or just a story that moves forward (i haven't thought of a plot after this yet). Honestly, this is just for fun people, I hope you liked this and I hope that I someday write more about this little variation of new characters and dynamics I wrote in this one. The new series will have hybrid!reader ‘cause i’m a TVD fan and i miss that shit daily (and witches and vampires/werewolves are a match). Ps. I suck at summaries and now I just copy-paste the show's official summaries haha

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | *Series Masterlist

*you can read the two first "chapters" for context but it's not really necessary, to understand the story. This is pretty canon-compliant

-&-

Pietro's presence just worsens the tension between you and Wanda.

Not that he's behaving inappropriately or anything like that - his flawed personality is probably his charm. 

The problem is that you had no idea Wanda had a bother in the first place. You were certain she didn’t, just two seconds before she opened that door, but by the same second she told you who that was, your mind went blank and a click of new memories was input into your brain. You could relax and pretend they were always there, and trust your wife but she must have been feeling strange about the whole thing as well, somehow sharing her hesitation through the magic that surrounded every corner and mind of that town.

That's why when Wanda came back to bed that night, she found you already asleep - or pretending to. Every instinct in your mind was telling you to run screaming, the image of your work colleague and his despairing eyes, begging for help, piercing all the new family memories you were getting now.

Children growing up years during one single evening, neighbors terrified subconsciousness, mystery brother. Things seemed to be getting out of control for Wanda as well, but she just kept saying everything was fine and you could trust her.

She didn't try to press you into a conversation, but you heard her tense sighing around the room while she changed into her nightgown.

In no time, there's a soft weight on the bed and a pull on the mattress. You feel her warmth behind you but don't move an inch.

Wanda shifts and you stop breathing when her fingers reach out for your back. Tentatively calling for your attention.

Sighting deeply, you slowly turn to face her. You don't know what you were expecting, maybe red irises that would take your doubts away. You weren't expecting to find teary eyes instead. The effect was nearly the same though - seeing Wanda crying knock down all your defenses all at once.

“Hey.” You start softly, one of your hands moving to her cheek. She leans into the touch immediately, a sad smile on her lips. “Why are you crying, darling?”

She shakes her head, and it looks like she won't explain further when suddenly, she sobs. “I can't believe he's really here.” 

Wanda looks so vulnerable but you're so confused. You don't stop your caress on her cheek but you stare at her in doubt. “Oh darling, tell me what's wrong? Didn't you two get along?”

Wanda chuckles sadly. Your words are not meant to be anything but curious and reassuring of her feelings but they pierce her heart nonetheless. The fact that this version of you has no idea of how much she lost, and didn't even know who Pietro was until tonight makes her feel so wrong about everything.

“We did. He, hm…” She dries her own tears when evading your touch. To lie to your face, she needs physical distance not just emotional. “We grew apart, that's all. It's really nice to have my brother around again.” She turns away, to gaze at the ceiling but you frown at the sudden change of behavior. Wondering what you might have said to upset her, you swallow as Wanda yaws. “Today was just a lot. Let’s just sleep, okay?”

Wanda turns her back to you without another word but less than a minute later, you hear her trying to shuffle her crying.

You don't ask her any questions as you adjust to hold her, feeling her body tensing before relaxing completely.

There will be time for questions tomorrow. Right now, you just hold your wife while she cries herself to sleep, hoping she knows in her heart you'll be there for her.

-&-

Pietro Maximoff could be a bit inconvenient. But so could be Agnes, the nosy neighbor who seemed to share a special affection for Wanda's twin. 

You couldn't really decide which one of them was the most cheeky.

With the daily routine falling into place again, you wanted to believe things were getting better but in fact, they weren't. That whole “foggy mind” sensation never left you, and you had the strong impression that the whole two weeks of Pietro sleeping on the couch and every other routine memory with the boys, Wanda and occasionally Agnes around the round was somehow implemented into your head during your sleep. It just didin’t feel like weeks had passed, but somehow everybody was acting like it did.

Without any proof to that, however, you found yourself staring at a colorful outfit in your shared closet.

Wanda got up early - She has been quite evasive about your agony. And her lack of interest just makes you more anxious.

But by the time you were ready to face another day, she was already dressed up in her red costume, looking way too pretty for someone you were supposed to be mad with.

“Hey darling good morning. Your outfit is right there, I'm gonna check if the boys are ready.” She spoke very quickly, hands busy with the last adjustments of her hair. But her little crown was slightly misplaced and you moved to her way before she could bypass you and leave the room. “What are you…?”

Without a word, your hands move to fix her appearance. Wanda stays put, eyes scanning your face as if searching for a hidden meaning behind your actions, and at the slight feeling of her presence in your mind, you chuckle.

“Is this what you do now?” You question and Wanda's cheeks grow red with shame. “Little peaks whenever you don't feel like talking to your wife?”

She gasps slightly at the accusation. But you're staring at her with anything but teasing behind your eyes and Wanda lifts her chin.

“I don't want us to fight.” She declares but she doesn't move away from your touch so you don't give her space either.

“Fight? You barely pay me a glance.”

“That is not true!” She defends herself immediately but you chuckle dry.

“How come is Halloween already? I could swear it was summer. Didn't we go to the local club just a couple of days ago?”

Wanda holds your wrist, moving your hand away from her red crown. 

“Could you just behave? Today, at the boy's first Halloween? Please.”

She was not only diverting the whole situation guilty towards you but also ignoring your questions. 

When Wanda decided that behaving so toxic towards you was acceptable you don't know.

What you know is that she needed to be reminded of a few important things.

“I'm afraid that your bother is having a terrible influence on me, darling.” You start, freeing your hand from her grip only to move both to her waist. She swallows hard but keeps an indifferent expression. “I'll be up to mischief all evening.”

She frowns, even if by instinct her hands find your shoulders to correspond to your touch, she looks tense.

“What… You're not sticking around for your son's first Halloween?”

You chuckle at her choice of words. Nowadays, every time you want to question something, Wanda goes for emotional appeal. 

“Is it? They are already ten. I'm certain we must have taken them to pick up candy at some point. It would be odd if we haven't.” 

Wanda narrows her eyes at you. So this is how you gonna play this game - by taunting her on everything that was weird about Westview, trying to see her crack on her indifference.

She takes a deep breath, fingers adjusting your pajama’s collar.

“You're trying to get a reaction out of me. I'm sorry, but I already said we're not fighting today. If you can't skip work, I'm taking the boys with their uncle.”

“As you wish, darling.” You retry with the same serious tone. 

Wanda stares back. And there's a pause and another. 

Then, a pull on her waist to bring her hard towards your chest. Wanda barely has time to blush or choke on her breathing when your lips meet her in an intense kiss.

She moans against her will into your tongue, her body melting as your hands squeeze her waist, that doesn't help her regain her posture one bit.

She feels her back hit the shelf when you push forward to press her against it, but that only makes her kiss you harder, the affected sighs during the kiss only making you crazier.

Your hands start to wander, and the bedroom door locks by itself, a spell of noise filling the wood as well. As your kisses go down her jaw, her trembling fingers try to undo the knot of your pajama pants. She ends up failing in the activity when you start biting a sensitive spot behind her ear, your teeth scraping the way down, and Wanda wonders if she should cause more fights to have such a mind-blowing turn-on like this; she feels like if you don't fuck her now she might combust.

She only realizes she's started begging because you give a sadistic giggle, which makes her cheeks burn.

"I might not let you leave the room, Wands." You tease, and she has trouble even understanding what you're saying because you've lowered your fingers to where she's already started leaking beyond her costume. "Making those delicious sounds, and dressed like that. I don't want to let you go." 

She forces her mouth to work, even though she's first letting out a little squeal when she feels your palm press against her covered pussy. "I'll be quick." She replies hoarsely, and you raise an eyebrow at the double meaning. She chuckles weakly, sighing. "You won't even have time to miss me." 

You hum absently, looking down. One of your hands caresses her ass and then her thigh, smoothing her pantyhose. Your fingers tease her intimacy, bringing the moisture she can't contain, and making her knees buckle. When Wanda shudders, in that sexy way she always does every time her orgasm is building properly, you sigh. 

"Sorry, honey, I really need to touch you." It's your only warning, and Wanda wants to pretend she doesn't like it when you rip her costume at the bottom, but she ends up rewarding you with a new wave of wetness running down her thighs.

You kiss her again as your fingers find her entrance, but Wanda has trouble even standing, let alone kissing you back when you’re touching her like this. Your fingers tease her hot entrance before you push two digits inside without ceremony, grunting at the warmth and the way she squeezes you. Wanda sighs contentedly and resists the instinct to close her eyes to meet your gaze. She holds on as you rest one hand behind her on the shelf, and adjust the angle of the other, going deeper inside her. It’s almost a challenge as your thrusts start to get more determined and harder and she has to grip your shoulders to stay upright, biting her lip to muffle the sounds that tear from her throat.

The climax builds so quickly, she might be embarrassed if you weren’t her wife, and you know her body so well. Just adjust the angle, press her clitoris with your thumb, and Wanda arches and comes hard, keeping herself standing only by holding on to your shoulders, while all the lights in the room flicker and the place shakes as much as your body.

You have a satisfied little smile on your face as she tries to stop shaking, and she can't hold back her moan when you remove your fingers from inside her only to suck them clean one by one.

You kiss her again as soon as you finish, and Wanda finds it so dirty and sexy that she starts scratching your belly, ready for another. You break off with a giggle.

"Weren't you the one in a hurry?" You tease, your pants loosening as Wanda starts to feel around you, pulling the item down with some urgency.

"Weren't you the one who wouldn't let me get out of bed?" She responds aroused, managing to make you giggle before pressing your hips together, her firm hands squeezing your ass.

When she kisses you next, sucking on your tongue, you grunt. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, Wands." You break the kiss, manhandling her back to the bed, and standing behind her. "You're gonna get on all fours and watch yourself get fucked like the slutty housewife you love to be. Come on, Wanda." A slap to her ass has her whimpering on shaking limbs until she finally exposes herself to you. The mirror in the corner of the room is ignored, but you force her face up, and she stares at the sight that leaves her dripping.

It doesn't surprise her to feel the hardness against her entrance, but it makes her break into a deep moan. The toy conjured in your pants that are still hanging at your knees slides in easily, and you both grunt at the sensation of the enchanted cock filling her up. Your first thrust is the only gentle one. Your hands grip her hips and then her hair, and Wanda is transformed into a pathetic mess of begging and moaning as you begin to fuck into her hard, the bed rocking with your movements.

You grunt between thrusts how much you love her. How much you love filling her, how much you love the way she sounds and feels. How much you want to fuck another baby into her.

Wanda comes without warning, her hands gripping the sheets in desperation, her body giving in to the climax as she cries loudly into the bed. You don't stop your movements, the creamy slickness making a dirty sound that makes you curse softly and Wanda blush deeply. She grunts at the overstimulation, but her hips move in time with yours.

You tell her that you're going to come, your thrusts becoming more frantic and uncoordinated, and she keeps her gaze on your reflection, watching with adoration the way your body moves against hers, your face contorted with pleasure as she barely manages to stay on her own limbs. When you come inside, the sensation is too delirious to begin with, so Wanda follows your climax, moaning as your body falls on top of hers, holding her to the bed as you pour yourself inside her.

But as your breathing calms and the arousal has subsided to deep intimacy, you sigh and pull out of her, throwing yourself next to her on the bed. Wanda frowns at the change in your energy and looks at you curiously.

"We can't end all fights like this," you murmur, and she raises an eyebrow.

"Can't we?"

But despite your dry chuckle, there's no joy in your eyes. It makes Wanda feel like the worst person in the world, even after what was probably the best sex she's had in a long time.

"I'm gonna go change. I promise I won't ruin anything for you today." You say, and she wants to pull you back and tell you that you never ruin anything, that this is all for, but none of that comes out.

She just stands there in silence, until she remembers everything she had planned for today with the noise downstairs.

She's already fixed her costume and tidied the room when you come back with a towel slung over your shoulders.

“I…” But the boys running and fighting with their uncle downstairs make Wanda sigh. She offers you a lingering glance once she touches the doorknob. “I love you, Y/N. Never forget, alright?” 

You give her a lopsided smile. “Don't start or I'm gonna kiss you again.”

She smiles and leaves without saying anything else. You don't know how her heart ached at the fact you didn't say it back.

-&-

The further you went, the less habited Westview became.

The realization gives you chills, and as the city turns into this creepy empty scenario, you start to consider giving up your little investigation and just go back to your lovely wife and children.

It's the neighbor's parked car at Ellis Avenue that makes you sigh determined.

You're surprised to find Agnes having a drink inside. The small bottle has an insight that looks strangely familiar to you but you can't put your heart on that. And you're busy speaking:

“Goodnight, Agnes, is everything alright?” You greet but upon your sudden arrival, she chuckles ironically.

Not even bothering to hide away the bottle that has something so strong that you can smell the alcohol from afar, she leans into the window to get a better look at you.

“And what are you doing here, sugar?”

Her attitude chocks you. Not only that but something about the ascent also makes you frown. But you decide to play along because things are weird enough those days.

“Hm, I was just going for a walk.”

Agnes lifts an eyebrow at you. “Oh, does she know you're out?”

You know immediately she's talking about Wanda but you have no clue what that means. So you swallow drily and stare at the older woman.

“Yeah, I… I tell my wife everything.”

Agnes giggles wickedly. “Is that what you believe? Truly? How lovely.”

“Agnes, I don't understand -”

“Stop this act for once!” She cuts off angrily, opens the door, and almost hits you in the process. You step back so she can get out of the vehicle, and she hits the door a second time. “I'm Agatha! We know each other! Stop this foolish act for once!”

You frown and shake your head confusedly. “Of course we know each other, you're my neighbor-”

She groans impatiently, giving your shoulders a hard push. “Do you know how worried I was when you disappeared? Do you even care?”

“Agnes, I don't-”

“When you said you wanted to do the right thing, I let you. I gave you the space you wanted. When you said you would play superhero with those lunatics, I said okay, do one crazy thing this century, we all have our phases.” She continues to vent, without caring about your confusion. “But then you were gone! They brought everybody back except you. There was a whole fucking memorial you know? And I thought, fuck that stupid asshole finally got what she was looking for. And yeah I took your body from those shitty agents like you made me swear I would do if you were ever treated like a lab rat, but then I came here for a job and here you are! Playing housewife with that witch as if nothing bad happened ever happened!”

You interrupt her: “What bad thing happened?”

“You died, your idiot!” She screams back, stealing the air from your lungs. But she sighs to keep her composure and then chuckles humorlessly. “Or at least that's what the news said, right?” She retorts, her eyes shining lit. You don't know if it's the tears or the challenge behind her iris. “What is this anyways, Y/N? Where even are you right now? Do you know? Does she?”

You step back, your heart racing in your chest. “None of this makes any sense. You're clearly disoriented, and I'm sorry but I can't deal with this right now.” You practically run away from her, but Agnes - or Agatha at this point you're not sure of anything anymore - stops following you. She shakes her head in disbelief and takes the small bottle from her pocket again. With a long gulp, it looks like she drinks all of it before turning back to her car.

You just keep moving. 

The Avenue limit is in front of you, and you don't have to make much of an effort to realize there's so short of energy there. Like a wall right in front of you.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand to the border moving forward with your fingers.

The second you're out, Westview disappears.

-&-

Before.

When Agatha Harkness decided her apprentice was ready for a real mission, she expected the witch she chose to spare instead of sacrifice once, to go for something simple, like killing a dragon or exploring a different realm.

She was not expecting an infinity stone.

“It's stupidly dangerous.” She said when you suggested but you didn't lose your posture.

“And when are we doing things that aren't dangerous?” Your argument started there just before you listed how inconvenient it would be if Hydra learned how to manipulate the stones for the actual magical community. Teasing Agatha by saying you might ask the Kamar Taj Mages for the same mission was the main reason she agreed with this.

In no time, you're heading off to a little place called Sokovia. Alone for your first mission, you didn't call for help when you got captured because that would be too humiliating. It was your first mission without Agatha, you could handle Hydra and their weird science.

You could handle their experiments and torture in search of truth. You could handle an infinity stone being carved into your skin as they tried to study the magic from your veins. If there was something that Agatha taught was that you should never fear power, no matter what, you should take it. And so you did.

Agatha was supposed to be proud - You did not only succeed in your mission when you interrupted the experiments by stealing the stone from Hydra to give it to the Avengers (who were not supposed to do the same with it to be clear), but you were also much more powerful than any witches your age and beyond due to the experiments. But instead of being proud, Agatha got jealous. She was worried too, but mostly jealous. It's just who she was after all - the most ambitious person you ever met. And having her apprentice overcome her power in one mission didn't make her feel very good about herself.

After the fight that escalated with this jealousy, you two departed for years. You became an Avenger, and Agatha kept doing what she did best. The stone craved at Vision’s head kept whispering fears into his mind until finally, the mad Titan came to Earth to retract what he believed belonged to him and kill anyone who stayed in his way.

You were given a proper and public funeral organized by Natasha Romanoff, so Agatha knew you were gone. She saw the news, then she visited the grave. 

The Avengers didn't know the old ways of witchcraft, so she felt she was in her right to steal your body without giving any explanation. Leaving an empty and destroyed grave behind. It was not the witch community problem that a new tension surfaces with that, whispers of government organizations or criminals wishing to have your body for their own experiments. The talk of men was of little importance for a 300-year-old witch anyway.

Five years came and a flick of fingers brought everybody back from the dead. All but you.

Agatha had your body magically preserved - untouched by the lady of death as one last favor from Rio - she made sure you were buried in her family land as well. 

You must rest with your kind she would say.

But everything changed one afternoon. She felt a powerful magic emission from afar and left her property. Unaware that you heard the same calling.

The connection you held with the witch calling whatever was deeper than the dark roots of that cursed magical ground your body was buried in. 

The stone that was used to amplify Wanda's and your powers created a magical bond between you two that not even death could break. That, and well, you loved each other very deeply. The second her heart screamed your name during the Creation of Westview, you moved to her. 

Your poor stitched body couldn't do the travel - the fight with the Titan weakened your flesh to its limit. You crawled into the Harkness Residence while its owner flayed to answer the magical calling before you could.

The only way you were able to reach for Wanda was with your mind. The preserved connection of the stone to yours and her power brought your conscience all the way to Westview but weakened by the distance and your wife's grief, all memories were gone. 

You were there, but not really.

And while Agatha's employees woke up and freaked out about a body in the living room, your Hex version and her were locked inside Westview, following up fantasies for what felt like a lifetime but in reality barely a week had passed.

That until of course, you stepped outside.

The first person you see is Darcy Lewis. But she's nothing like you remember her.

Just like everybody around, she had circus outfits and even some handcuffs and chains around her that made you frown.

Getting up from the ground you didn't even realize you fell into, you take a moment to clean up the amount of dirt from your clothes.

“Darcy, is that really you?”

The brunette let out a nervous laugh. “I'm sorry, am I the only one who saw this woman appearing out of nowhere? Hello, guys? Okay, I'm out of here.” She moves away nervously but you stumble behind her. 

“Wait, Darcy, is me-”

“Get away from me, stranger!” Darcy shouts back, almost running but you focus on using your abilities. It's painful, as if your mind and body - and the Westview version of yourself are -  getting used to magic again, so when you teleport to her way, your knees give up and Darcy is kind enough not to let you fall to the ground. “What the hell was that?”

You balance yourself with her help. “Darcy is me. How can you not remember me?”

“Sorry, I'm not good with names.”

You chuckle weakly. “Not even Jane Foster? Or Thor?” She blinks, suddenly more uncomfortable than before. When she hesitates, you reach for her head. The magical subjugation is forced away by your magic and Darcy gasps in chock. 

“Oh my god, is really you is it, Y/N?” She finally recognized you, her memories coming back to her at high speed.  You sigh in relief, moving closer to free her from her chains. You hug her back as her arms lock around you tightly. “I knew they were wrong when they said you were gone.”

You break the embrace to give her a small smile. “Well, about that…”

You had to tell the story very quickly; your goal was to get back to the city, to your wife. Who needs to explain to you how the hell you were here and not buried in New York. If Wanda wouldn't talk, Agatha would have to do it.

Darcy, fortunately, managed to get a car.

"[...] do you really think she resurrected me?"

Darcy shrugs, she's driving and even though she's not a witch, she seems to take the whole story very seriously.

"Look, it's like I told you, SWORD called all kinds of experts to this place. No one really knows what the Hex is made of, much less how you're here. But what we do know is that your body was stolen about three weeks ago, and no one has been able to locate you anymore."

You imagine how Wanda would have done it, and the image of her digging your grave and dragging your body through the city gives you chills. But it also has nothing to do with Wanda, and makes you sigh wearily.

"I don't know, Darcy. It doesn't sound like anything she would do."

The woman with the glasses forces a sad smile at you. "Grief is a strange feeling, my friend. We often do surprising things."

There's a pause, but when Darcy speaks again after a whistle, her tone is much lighter than before.

"Now, talking about your body, are you sure you don't feel... you know, physical?"

You laugh, scratching the back of your head awkwardly. "It's hard to explain. I don't think I would notice if I weren't a witch, and well the spell is strong and capable of fooling everyone here. But I can feel that I'm not complete." You try to explain. "I only noticed when I left the Hex. It was like a tug, behind my head, as if my mind is the only physician thing here somehow. I don't know how Wanda brought me back, but I have a few guesses. A lot of them involve necromancy, but I don't know where she would have learned that. Although, the presence of a friend here in the Hex gave me some pointers."

Darcy frowns. "Friend? Who?"

She has to brake suddenly, because there's a sheep crossing in the way. It's your turn to grimace.

"What the hell...?" The herd lingers and then gives way to children crossing the street and an old lady with walking sticks.

Wanda is keeping you away. But why?

"She's doing this, Darcy." You mutter irritably, looking out the window at the next distraction on the road - roadworks - before unbuckling your seatbelt. "This is ridiculous. I am dead, and my wife would rather arrest me on the road than talk about it. We'll meet downtown, Darcy. And thank you for coming here to help Wanda." You get out of the car before your friend can protest, and fly away without waiting for anything else.

It's time to have a grown-up talk about things.

-&-

Your sudden departure, although short, was enough for your physical body to gain the little vigor it needed.

Just enough to call the only person who could help you in this state.

Agatha had few trusted employees, but they all liked you. Worried and attentive to every movement, to every weak breath of yours, while they stitched and healed your body, they heard you whisper the name that had not been pronounced under this roof for hundreds of years.

“Rio Vidal.”

Harkness Mansion grew cold at once, and the employees shrank in fear but also lowered their gazes in respect for the personification of death that had just appeared at the entrance.

Rio walked unhurriedly to the stone bench where your body rested. She touched your face and hoped you had some strength to open your eyes.

Completely white irises stared back at her. An empty, soulless cocoon.

"Poor child." The woman whispered, tracing your cheek carefully. "Agatha never learns."

She made to move away, but you managed to move your hand to hers. "Help me." The mansion's servants left the two of you alone, but Rio didn't care if she had an audience or not. She sighed sadly, her free hand resting above your ribcage. 

"Agatha asked me not to take your body, but this is inhumane. You're suffering, Y/N." You shake your head, tears escaping the corners of your eyes. Rio looks at you in confusion and insists: "Of course you are, child, look at you. You're empty. You're not even here anymore." Your fingers intertwine with hers in desperation. "We..West...view."

You struggle to get the words out, until finally, Rio understands.

"Westview is a town in New Jersey. That's where Agatha anchored the preservation spell, isn't it? Tell me where. I'll set you free."

You shake your head and your words change. "Wanda."

The woman frowns. "Wanda? Your wife? What does she have to do with...-"

One of the servants comes back into the room, a newspaper in hand. He seems too scared to interfere, but he still manages to hand the item to Rio.

When she reads the headline about Westview and a mysterious Hex that has quarantined the town, she laughs in disbelief.

She comes back to you only to pull you up in a sitting position, ignoring your grunts of pain.

"Our wives are insane, honey. Get up, let's clean up their mess."

It's a quick trip with Rio's skills, of course.

And you arrive for a very ugly fight, which your body certainly couldn't handle. That's why Rio keeps you both hidden, watching from a distance.

Agatha - as always - takes impulsive actions and this time, she can't win.

In any other situation, Rio would have intervened on her wife's behalf. This time, having to help your body stand up, prevented from decaying by spells because Agatha refused to let you die, she doesn't do it. She just watches Wanda take her power.

After so many centuries of watching Agatha do the same to other witches, it's definitely an interesting scene.

The limit is drawing in imprisoning her. That Rio can't allow.

"May I interrupt, ladies?"

Rio's sudden appearance makes Wanda go on alert and prepare for a fight. But her entire posture collapses when she locks eyes with you.

With a sob, Wanda calls your name and then runs to meet you.

You have trouble staying upright with the hug but you don't dare complain.

Billy and Tommy look at the scene with confused faces, and it is Billy who whispers his version of Hex:

"Why is mom hugging that zombie?"

You laugh softly, ruffling your two children's hair. Wanda is crying, unable to let go of your body, and you sigh tiredly. You feel the tug coming from there, but you have no idea how to regain a physical form. The connection seems impossible.

Agatha starts to cause a commotion with her ex-wife.

"You're so irresponsible, I told you a million times that breaking the natural order of things is impossible, and it's temporary. You don't listen, and you don't learn!" Rio accuses, trying to reach Agatha who is running away from her until she reaches your Hex version.

"Here’s the proof that it's not impossible!" Agatha retorts in despair, ignoring the looks in her direction. "Look at her! She lives! It's her soul! Wanda brought her back. She could-"

"Agatha." Rio cuts her off, tears in her eyes for the first time. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. And when she speaks again, her voice is much softer than before. "Not him, okay?"

And the witch who is holding your shoulders tightly, sniffs softly, trying to hide her own emotions. "Why? Why can't you give me the only thing I want?"

Rio swallows hard. "He found peace, Agatha. There is no return for his soul. Y/N is still here because you imprisoned her. And Wanda was able to call her back. And now." She gestures to your two versions and your wife. "It's time for goodbyes."

Wanda didn't want to let go of you, but you gave her a reassuring smile.

Your physical body couldn't speak, and she noticed it immediately. She touched your cheeks and stared into your completely white, lifeless eyes.

"I'm sorry for doing this to you." She whispers, sniffing softly. "I'm going to let you go."

The boys don't listen, having been taken away from the confusion by Monica as soon as Agatha and Rio start arguing. And Wanda needs to leave your body with Lady Death, even if it breaks her heart into a thousand pieces.

"Will you take care of her?" She asks, swallowing the urge to cry again. She looks at Agatha, sulking in a corner as if she would also start crying at any moment, and sighs. "Of the two of them?"

Rio nods and looks at Wanda curiously. "We'll meet again, Wanda Maximoff. I'm at the end of all journeys."

The younger witch can't smile back, she just looks at Rio with such deep sadness that it makes the entity regret having been present in so many moments of Wanda's life.

With one last look at your body, the Scarlet Witch joins her family from the Hex, and leaves towards their house, while the magic fades in the sky and around everyone.

-&-

You turned on the lamp just as Wanda had turned off the opposite one, and she smiled as she looked at you.

The boys were sleeping upstairs, and from the window, you could see the Hex closing.

"Sorry, I remembered..." You start awkwardly, out of breath. "That it's bad luck to say goodnight in the dark."

Wanda smiles, approaching in small steps. "Is that so?"

You nod, your hands in your pockets because you don't know what to do with them. You didn't know what to do with anything.

"It's the name of a song, isn't it? One of the many you used to listen to in the Avengers Tower."

Your wife sighs, giving you a sad, almost guilty smile. She's finally close enough to touch.

"I'm sorry about your memories." She asks softly, her hands moving to your wrists. So that you take your hands out of your pockets, and place them where they belong. Around her. "I would have told you the truth from the beginning, but I didn't know-"

She trails off when instead of wrapping your arms around her waist, one of your hands reaches for her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that makes her melt and gasp.

Wanda can't do this. She can't. She doesn't want to say goodbye, and she can't say goodbye to you again.

"I'm so sorry for making you cry." That's what you say, which just makes her break down into a sob. You give her a tearful smile, your other hand also reaching for her face, to hold her tenderly. "You, Wanda Maximoff, are by far the best thing that has happened to me in 345 years on this earth. The fact that I get to die knowing that I was loved not just by anyone, by  you, is the epitome of a fulfilled life.” You say, caressing her skin with your thumb. You take a deep sigh, as your wife tries to hold your hands in her face. “I love you, Wanda.”

“Please.” She cries, falling into your embrace when you move your hands away. She holds you as tight as she can, but she can feel the fading of the spell. “Please come back to me.”

With all your heart, you wished to fulfill her request. And with the end of Hex, the last sensation you felt was Wanda's embrace, and her tears wetting your shirt.

It made all the sense that you woke up with a jump, calling her name.

The place you were in looked nothing like Westview or any place you had been in years.

But it wasn't completely unfamiliar. It looked a lot like a forested area you hadn't been in since the last century.

And the little boy picking flowers near the river where you emerged from took all the air from your lungs.

Little Nicholas Schatch looked back as if he had guessed you were awake.

"Hi, Aunt Y/N."

You gasped with excitement, sitting up. He came closer and didn't complain when you pulled him into a tight hug. Even though you came from the water, your clothes were not wet.

"Hi, Nicky." You cried, holding him until he laughed at the tightness and tried to escape the grip. "Look at you, boy. You look so handsome, so grown up."

It had been so long since you had seen him since you had helped Agatha bury him. He didn't seem to have aged a day, but he had looked so small when he passed, that you had the impression he had grown. "It's so good to see you again, dear." Nick smiled, sitting down next to you on the dry grass. 

"You didn't bring Mama with you." You give him a sad smile, shaking your head. 

"I'm sorry, little prince, your mama isn't ready yet." He nods in understanding, upset but not insisting. You look around, recognizing that scene, the cabin in the background, the river. You sigh before looking at Nicholas again. "Where's your other mother?" He shrugs, gathering the flowers in his lap. You realize he bound them together with magic, not with knots. You frown, touching his hands. "Can you do magic now, little prince?" He nods, smiling. 

"My mother taught me." You stare at him in surprise and then look around again. 

"Where are we, Nicky? Do you know?" He gives a confused laugh. 

"Home, Aunt Y/N, of course."

You accept the flower necklace he made for you but don’t get up when he walks away back to the lake.

“Nicky.” You call after a moment of thought. He hums, signaling that he’s listening. “Did anyone else come with me? Two other little boys?”

He doesn’t look up from the new necklace he’s making. “No, Aunt Y/N. My mother said Billy and Tommy ran away.”

Your stomach drops. You choke. “W-what… Ran away? Where?”

He shrugs and finally looks at you again.

"She doesn’t know, Auntie. But my mother keeps me here safe, away from the disease. She said she could keep you and Billy and Tommy too. But she needs to find them first."

You freeze and try to hide your reaction from your step-nephew. He gives you a smile before going back to playing, and you force your body to work and stand up.

You take one last look at him before heading towards the cabin, and as soon as you arrive, you realize that it is exactly as you remembered, how you visited Agatha and Rio for decades before Nicky was born - when their life was calm, happy, and peaceful.

Everything that time has erased, photos, paintings, and furniture are fully preserved here. You lean against the walls until you sit in one of the empty chairs at the table.

You notice the pots of food and frown.

Since when do the dead need to eat?

Raising your hand in the air, your first attempt is a simple conjuration. Anything, even a spark. And you end up having to suppress the grunt of pain as you try. Nothing.

Maybe the passage took away all your magic, or maybe it was the river’s doing. Either way, you're dry.

You look through the half-open door at the child playing in the river and bite the inside of your cheek. Your fingers find the flower necklace in your pocket, and even faintly, you feel the magic in them.

Well, a few dozen more, and you'd have enough to get you home.

Hopefully it would be a trip for two.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

your husband nanami never really had much to look forward to in his life rather than making enough money to retire and relax, until you came along. he has never failed to make you happy. you were his number one priority. the reason he worked such excruciating hours. all of pain and suffering that went into the money he made meant nothing if he couldn't spend every single penny towards your happiness. I mean the saying is 'happy wife happy life,' right?

except you've noticed how drained of life your husband was chasing money all the time, he would constantly come home exhausted from working over time. you would often find yourself massaging his tense shoulders while he's drifting off in your lap, still dressed in his work clothes. you began baking pastries and other sweets for him while at home because you felt bad for all the work he had been putting himself through,

"sweetheart, these are delicious, where did you learn how to bake like this?" his usual tired and monotone voice was gone, it was replaced with the slightest amount of shock and delight.

"ken I appreciate you being sweet, but it was my first time making it so its okay to tell me if its bad." you smiled up at him.

"my love what makes you think im just being sweet? this is amazing."

from there on out he would nanami would always compliment your baking exceedingly, getting on his knees in front of you right as he walked through the door and the smell of freshly baked buttery sweet bread hit him.

it still hurt your heart to see him so exhausted all the time. so you had the idea to take on a job at a bakery, your interview went well and the manager loved the sample pastry that you made, he gave you the job and the pay wasn't too bad. you were so excited to tell your husband about your new job when he came home because it meant that he wouldn't have to put so much strain on himself anymore and he could relax.

little did you know that it would lead to a small argument, where kento was being the stubborn one, for once.

"love I just don't understand, am I not doing enough?" he placed a hand on your hip and one on your cheek, his eye brows pushed together in confusion.

"ken you don't get it. youre doing TOO much." you grabbed his hand from your face and held it in yours. "you need a break. plus it would be good for me to get out of the house, I can't stand being at home and doing nothing knowing that you can barely get a full night of rest."

"that's not something you need to worry about-"

"ken."

"hm?"

"youre being stubborn. just let me try for a little while, and you can see what its like to have a break hm? if you REALLY don't like it, then ill quit okay?"

"do you really think that you need to take on a job dear? I-"

"kento."

"okay. but if you really don't like it then just tell-" you cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips. you knew how much your husband hated working, but you also knew he was too stubborn to ask for help.

months had passed and its safe to say that your deal worked out as you and your husband were walking back from the beach during your week long vacation in Malaysia in celebration of your anniversary.

"ken look how pretty that orchid is!" you pointed high up into a tree at a beautiful fully bloomed white orchid that had hints of yellow and pink in the middle.

"hm." was all he replied with a small smile. I reached up and easily picked the flower due to his tall frame, he placed the flower behind your ear and admired it.

"looks even prettier now." he said as he gently cupped your face and pulled you in slowly for a kiss.

now every year on your anniversary without fail, your husband buys you the same exact white orchids with a hint of yellow and pink in the middle imported from Malaysia just to see your face light up all over again.

guess the saying was true.

a/n: this is not proofread and im aware this is ass but does it look igaf...

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hellooo :D can i request dottore & segments reaction to dottores kid befriending scaramouche?

The first time Dottore caught wind of your so-called ‘friendship’ with Scaramouche, he nearly short-circuited.

“Excuse me?” he asked, peering down at you from behind his mask. His tone was cold, almost clinical, but there was a dangerous undertone to it. “You’ve been spending time with who?”

You blinked up at him innocently. “Scaramouche! He’s funny.”

Dottore sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That is not the word I would use.”

The segments reacted in varying degrees of horror.

Alpha was the first to object. “Absolutely not. He is erratic and volatile. You are a child.”

Beta, always the most pragmatic, crossed his arms. “Statistically speaking, Scaramouche has a 97% chance of emotionally scarring them within a week.”

Theta, ever the instigator, smirked. “Or teaching them some very colorful vocabulary. I vote we let this happen just to see how unhinged it gets.”

Zeta frowned deeply. “I don’t like it.”

Omega, the strictest of the group, went straight to damage control. “We need to put a stop to this before it escalates.”

Unfortunately for them, ‘putting a stop to it’ was easier said than done. Scaramouche had already decided you were his little accomplice in mischief, and you found his biting sarcasm endlessly amusing.

The first time the segments actually saw you with Scaramouche, it was worse than they imagined.

Theta had been the unlucky one sent to ‘retrieve’ you from the courtyard. He found you sitting next to Scaramouche on a bench, giggling as he ranted about something or another.

“I mean, really, the incompetence I deal with daily is astonishing,” Scaramouche sneered. “Do you know what one of the recruits said to me today? ‘Maybe you should try being nicer, my lord.’ Can you believe that?”

You gasped dramatically. “No! That’s terrible!”

Theta watched in horror as you patted Scaramouche’s arm in mock sympathy.

Scaramouche huffed. “Exactly! If I were any nicer, they’d walk all over me.”

Theta slowly backed away before sprinting back to the lab. “We have a problem,” he panted as he burst into the room.

Dottore, who had been working on a new project, barely spared him a glance. “Define ‘problem.’”

“They’re—” Theta wheezed. “They’re enabling him.”

Silence.

Then, chaos.

Omega and Alpha staged an intervention. It failed spectacularly.

Omega knelt down in front of you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Listen, you need to understand. Scaramouche is—” He glanced at Alpha, searching for the right word.

“A menace,” Alpha supplied helpfully.

Omega nodded. “A menace. He is not a good influence.”

You frowned. “But he’s nice to me.”

Alpha snorted. “That’s because you haven’t gotten on his bad side yet.”

“Well, maybe you guys are just mean to him,” you said with a shrug.

Omega’s eye twitched. “That’s not how this works.”

Meanwhile, in the background, Theta and Zeta were placing bets on how long before Dottore stepped in personally.

Dottore did, in fact, step in personally.

He found you in the same courtyard, this time listening intently as Scaramouche gave what seemed to be an impassioned speech about why authority was a joke.

“—and that’s why you should never blindly follow orders,” Scaramouche concluded, crossing his arms.

Dottore cleared his throat loudly.

You turned, eyes lighting up. “Dad!”

Scaramouche, however, groaned. “Ugh. You.”

Dottore’s lips curled into something vaguely resembling a smile. “Scaramouche.”

“I thought I told you to stop multiplying.”

“And I thought I told you to stop being insufferable.”

They stared each other down like two rival predators. You, completely unfazed, looked between them. “You guys argue like old men who plays chess.”

Dottore choked. Scaramouche made a face like he had just been personally insulted.

“…I’m leaving,” Scaramouche muttered, standing up. “Your kid is weird.”

Dottore exhaled slowly before turning back to you. “Why do you insist on spending time with him?”

You tilted your head. “Because he listens to me.”

That gave Dottore pause. He studied you carefully, noting the genuine happiness in your expression. Scaramouche was, objectively, a terrible influence—but he had never seen you this animated before.

“…Very well,” he said at last, much to Omega’s absolute horror.

“You’re allowing this?” Omega hissed later that evening. “After everything we discussed?”

Dottore hummed. “For now.”

Because, as much as he loathed to admit it, Scaramouche had one redeeming quality: he made you smile.

And for Dottore, that was enough… even if it meant suffering through Scaramouche’s presence.

Though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make the Harbinger’s life just a little difficult in return.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

lemon pie | husband!salesman x reader

scenario: you have a craving for lemon pie. the salesman is on the case. setting: before season 2 word count: 1.1k warnings: mention of gambling addiction; second and third person POVs; no use of y/n; recruiter is called salesman here notes: this was originally for pi day, but i rewrote this way too many times💀 gi-hun is not the target this time (surprisingly!). just a simple fluff piece with classic squid game vibes :) please enjoy! borders by @enchanthings-a!

4 p.m.

It was finally time to clock out. 

You stretched your arms above your head and let out a yawn. 

At least it was the weekend, you thought. It had been a rough week at work and you were just relieved it was finally over.

You decided to get a little something to cheer you up. A pie. Not just any pie, but your local bakery’s house special: lemon pie.

Checking the time, you concluded that there wouldn’t be enough time for you to get to the bakery before it closed. Then, you had an idea. Your husband was working at home today. Maybe he could get to the bakery in time?

You sent him a message.

Really craving lemon pie from that bakery. Could you pick one up?

Your husband replied almost instantly, promising to get you your pie. You couldn’t help but smile as you packed up your things. He really was the best!

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅

The familiar chime of a bell rang as the salesman entered the bakery. The smell of baked goods wafted through the air. The bakery wasn't very busy, thankfully. Only one customer was at the counter, a man.

The salesman went to stand behind him, patiently waiting for his turn. The man in front of him didn’t take long, soon leaving with a plastic bag in hand. 

“Hello,” the salesman greeted the cashier. “I would like one of your lemon pies.”

She frowned slightly. “Unfortunately, the last pie was sold to the gentleman who just left.” 

“I see,” the salesman mused, pondering what to do next. You were really counting on that pie to lift your spirits. “Thank you,” he bowed slightly to the cashier before leaving the bakery. 

Once the salesman stepped out, he spotted the man walking across the street. An idea popped into his head.

He followed the man to the nearest subway station. Once on the platform, he made his move.

“Hello, sir. Could I talk with you?”

The man looked confused. “Sure? Can I help you?”

The salesman smiled politely. “I would like to make you an offer. Have you played ddakji before?”

The man chuckled. “The kids game? Of course.” He paused. “Why?”

The salesman clicked open his briefcase to reveal stacks of won bills. The man gasped.

“If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won.” 

The man’s eyes widened into saucers. 

“But if you lose…” The salesman looked down at the plastic bag in the man’s hand. “You give me your pie.” 

The man looked at the bag, then back at the salesman. “It’s my daughter’s birthday. This pie is her favourite dessert…” He seemed conflicted.

“We don’t have to play,” The salesman said as he began closing his briefcase.

“Wait!”

The salesman smirked. No one could resist the allure of money. 

“I’ll… I’ll play.” The man looked desperate. 

The salesman gave his signature smile. 

“Then, let’s get started.”

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅

“There’s no way-! One more round!” 

The two men played five rounds before the salesman spoke up.

“I believe I’ve won.” The salesman held out a hand, a polite smile on his face. “Pie, please.”

The man begrudgingly handed it over. “What am I going to tell my daughter? Now I have nothing for her.”

The salesman tsked at the man. He took out a crisp 50,000 won bill from his briefcase and held it out. “Here, get your daughter something nice.” 

The man nearly leapt to collect the money. He held it up to analyze it, his eyes wide with disbelief. 

The salesman let out a huff. “Don’t go spending that at the races, all right, Park Jung-bae-ssi?”

The man froze, his eyes darting to the salesman. “H-how… How do you know my name?” 

The salesman just looked at him with his usual polite smile. “Park Jung-bae. Marine Corps Class 746. Originally worked at Dragon Motors, but after the strike, was laid off. Attempted to start several businesses afterwards, none of which would last longer than a couple years.”

Jung-bae stumbled backwards. “Who… just who are you?!”

The salesman ignored him and continued to speak. “You’ve acquired quite a large sum of debt these past few years. And to top it off, your ex-wife only allows you to see your daughter a couple times a year.” He almost pitied Jung-bae. 

Almost.

The salesman stepped towards Jung-bae and handed him a card. “There are other games where you can make more money than just 50,000 won. If you’d like to participate, give us a call.” He gave a short bow and lifted the plastic bag slightly. 

“Thank you for the pie.” 

The salesman walked away, leaving Jung-bae in stunned silence.

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅

The sound of the front door closing woke you up from your post-work nap. Looking out the window, you noticed it was already dark.

You got out of bed and went to the kitchen where the salesman was washing his hands. A bag was next to him on the counter.

“Did you get it?” You asked, peering into the plastic bag. 

“Of course,” he replied. You cheered, pulling him into a hug. To your surprise, he hugged you back.

“Thank you so much, I’ve been craving it all day!” You exclaimed.

He chuckled, then added, “It was the last one, too.” 

You gasped. “No way! You really got lucky.” 

He shrugged.

You moved to get some plates and a knife to cut the pie. “Would you like a piece?” You offered.

He shook his head. “It’s all for you.”

You cut yourself a big slice and went to eat it on the sofa. You turned the TV on to watch the nightly news. Your husband followed you, taking his place beside you. You snuggled into his side and began eating your pie.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” He asked. 

You nodded and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s even better because I’m with you. I’ve been dreaming of this moment all week.”

The salesman smiled, a fuzzy feeling enveloping his heart.

The joy on your face, the way you practically melted as you savoured your dessert… It was all worth it.

And he recruited another player at the same time. Two birds with one bullet. 

Your happiness meant everything to him. He always tried his best to care for you, even if his ways could be a bit unconventional sometimes. 

The salesman cherished you dearly, and he would do anything for you. That’s what people do for those they love, right?

Just then, the latest news in horse racing flashed on TV. They were interviewing a man who had won big at the races. But there, in the background, the salesman could pick out Jung-bae amongst the crowd, his expression distraught. 

Your husband scoffed.

Well, maybe not everyone.

tags: @muchwita

[encryptedbread]

I get compliments on my hair like, a lot (it's because it's long and gorgeous) really if you put enough effort into yourself it'll get recognized. The whole "guys don't get compliments :(" maybe like, I don't know, talk to people? I guarantee you that if you talk to people and stand out, folks are gonna recognize it and say "I like that about you!!"

I know so many girls dressing in so many styles, they all look very pretty and each have a style they rock with. When I see guys it's either a hoodie and shorts, or a shirt/hoodie of their favorite TV show. Bros walking into the milk aisle and complaining because nobody notices the white boy.

Likewise I know a buddy who is nice and funny in a unique way, so people interact with him, he shows off he's a little wierd so people remember him for it. The fact he doesn't blend in with the masculine guys is why he gets told he's funny, and cool, and unique, and nice. They recognize that because he ain't a copy paste guy in a hoodie talking about how he and his buddies went to the lake last night.

I just know that the dudes who make those "girls get 500 compliments a day vs. guy gets one compliment once and cherishes it for the rest of his life" memes put zero effort into their appearance. Like what exactly do you expect people to say? Wow nice plain ill-fitting hoodie, goes great with your basic-ass blue jeans and nondescript haircut. Got some real cool Grey Man vibes going on, you could seamlessly blend into any crowd ever without being seen at all.

Like nobody has any obligation to look any certain way, but you can't expect to be praised for doing something you're not even trying to do. I dress like I got tarred and feathered in a Tim Burton film costume department discard scrap pile, and someone saying they like my style is a biweekly occurrence.

[xzinbdg]

NO WAY BRO ❕❕

seven. moonstruck (written)

۶ৎ synopsis: sim y/n, sim jake's sister, has known lee heeseung, her older brother's best friend, for ages. In her mind, he sees her like a little sister, but in reality, he has lost all his girlfriends because of his feelings for her, too bad he's afraid of her brother's reaction.

To be honest, you were very excited for today. Yesterday, Heeseung told you to be ready for a date, and it’s not like it’s your first one with him, but something in you feels different about this one. You got the dress code, which is a dress, but since today is supposed to be kind of cold, you also decided to get some pants just in case it’s really cold; you could just change. Heeseung is picking you up in three hours, so you slowly started getting ready. You were kind of happy that Jake is at some sports camp, and you can just be with Heeseung as much as you want, but the fact that he doesn’t know about all of this is kind of eating at you. He is your older brother, and you always told him everything, but now you have this huge secret. “Ah, whatever, Heeseung will tell him soon,” you think to yourself as you finish your makeup. You kept it classic with some soft makeup and a long black dress. You were finishing getting ready when you heard a knock on the door.

“Coming!” you shouted, and went to open the door.

“Hi,” there he was, looking so handsome with pretty flowers just for you.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled at him, and he smiled back. “Shall we, beautiful?”

The two of you headed to his car and began heading to your destination.

“So where are we going?” you asked, curious.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he smirked at you. “What’s this, though?” he asked, pointing at the bigger bag that you brought.

“Oh, this? It said that it’s going to be kind of cold later, so I brought some pants just in case I’m cold.” He nodded, “Good job, smart girl.” You felt kind of dizzy after his words.

After about thirty minutes, you arrived at a pretty building. It’s a fancy restaurant; you can’t say you’ve been to one before, but there’s a first for everything.

“Hello! Did you book a table?” the receptionist asked.

“Yes, it’s under the name ‘Lee Heeseung.’” Why is he so charming just talking? you thought to yourself.

“Ah, I see it. Please follow me to your table.”

The vibe inside the restaurant was much more comfortable than you would have imagined. It does look fancy, though, and almost everyone is dressed well. You and Heeseung sat down and looked through the menu, ordering something after some time. "So, how do you like it here?" he asked. "It's very nice; I like it!" you said happily.

"I'm glad," he smiled. And right at that moment, your food arrived.

You enjoyed a nice dinner, just chatting away, reminiscing about some things from the past and getting to know new things about each other. After the meal, Heeseung insisted on paying the bill since he was the one who took you out on this date, and after some initial resistance, you eventually agreed.

"Where to now?" you asked. "Hmm, how about we go stargazing?" He asked "I love that idea." You replied.

And so the two of you made your way to the nearest hill. You were actually glad that you brought those pants with you because it started to get very cold, and Heeseung also gave you his jacket. The view was amazing—pretty stars and the city in the distance. Heeseung lay down, and so did you, putting your head on his chest.

"You know," he started, "I think I’m moonstruck by you." You laughed a bit. "Isn't it starstruck?" He smirked. "Well, the moon is bigger and shines brighter than the stars." You felt your cheeks heating up at his words.

After some time in silence, you sat up, and he did too after noticing you. You could feel the tension between you two and felt like you had to do something about it.

"Can you kiss me?" you asked, surprising him and even yourself by doing so.

Heeseung didn’t say anything; instead, he slowly came closer to you. He cupped your face gently and leaned in for a kiss. The moment your lips touched, you felt electricity course through your body. The kiss was soft yet sensual, revealing exactly how he felt. After a while, you let go, both of you as red as tomatoes and just staring at each other. You burst into giggles, and he did too, both feeling happy.

"So, can I finally be your boyfriend?" Heeseung asked nervously. "I thought you’d never ask." You captured him in another kiss, confirming your relationship with him.

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

written part: 750 words

۶ৎ pairing: brother's best friend!heeseung x reader

۶ৎ genre: smau, brother's bestfriend, forbidden love, angst, fluff, crack

۶ৎ emi's note: AHHH they are official!! but jake still doesnt know... on a side note I’ve been having so many problems with this chapter and taglist so if anything is wrong pls let me know and I will try to fix it 😞

۶ৎ taglist: @callikari @imanalien143 @kekaekeke @4lndr17 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @bejewelledgirl @jokkomizz @octoberoflove @swanwonyoung @mheretoreadff @s1rawb3rry @heeheelee @m1kkso @ayyonoona @augustloaf @lovenha7 @kukkurookkoo @honestlyatomicpanda @httpenhoon @noiiny @i03jae @celli-ohs @lilliansreality @jvngw0nlvr @starbyeol1512 @enhaz1 @lhseungg @sillyyuz @jiaant11 @wintereals @taehyuniesworld @fancypeacepersona @eyesonlybutterflies @yuyita-rosier @right-person-wrong-time @norihoyeon @simjaeyunies @rairaiblog @orimuraa @daniellesyellowhands @n-i4 @w2hoonki @ilovhoonie @jae-n0 @doveblackboat @ningningiloveumarryme @hyunjinslonglegs @jyikeu @reikaxslvr @teddywonss

[toasttt11]

single

summary: meeting someone for the first isn’t always perfect

request: *at a store and checking out* “Can you also add that spider-man kinder-joy right there? Make it three.” “Is it for your kids?” “No, for me. I’m single.”

will smith x reader

Will was walking down the isles in Target alone trying to grab a few last minute things before he had to leave for a long road trip later today.

His basket had all of his things he need and he started heading to the register.

Will was putting his phone away after texting Macklin back as Macklin was spamming him with texts.

Will took a step forward and felt someone hit his chest and he quickly reached out grabbing their waist to steady them and accidentally knocking their basket to the floor.

“I am so sorry.” Will quickly apologized feeling embarrassed for almost knocking them over completely and when he looked down, he realized he ran into a girl.

She glanced up at him not noticing how Will’s mouth parted as he looked at her first time as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay.” She gave him a kind smile, her eyes flickering across his face.

“Here let me help.” Will quickly stumbled over his words as he saw her starting to bend down to pick up her basket and items that were on the floor.

She looked up just as he bent down making their forehead bump together and they both hissed in pain holding their own foreheads.

“I’m so sorry again.” Will quickly got some words out looking incredibly sorry as he saw her holding her forehead.

She laughed just softly at his awkward and worried look, “It’s okay really.”

Will softly nodded as he stood up and held out his hand for to take, she grabbed her basket grabbing his hand standing up, “I’m Will.”

Will smiled hearing her name repeating it over in his head.

Will and her both took a step in the same direction and she laughed softly shaking her head and gestured for Will to go first to head to the register.

Will gave her a thankful look and went first and to in line at a register and he set his stuff on the conveyer belt as she waited in line behind him.

Will’s fingers were tapping on the conveyer belt trying to find something to say to the very pretty girl next to him.

He glanced up when the cashier was just scanning the last time and saw the kinder chocolates that Macklin loves, Will would never here the end of it if Macklin found out he didn’t get them.

“Can i still add the spider-man kinder-joy right there?” Will asked the cashier pointing to the kinder on the little shelves next to to the conveyer belt, who just nodded and grabbed one for Will scanning it.

She glanced at him with a little smile shaking her head.

“Actually make it three. Please.” Will added, knowing Macklin wouldn’t share his.

“Is it for your kids?” The cashier drawled at as they scanned the three eggs.

She looked down at her feet giggling softly at the question and the look on Will’s face, she glanced back up as Will answered.

“No, for me. I’m single.” Will stumbled out glancing at her nervously when he said he was single.

The cashier just sighed looking done seeing the glances between the two and handed Will the receipt.

Will slowly started walking away but barely moving that far from the register as she was waiting for her stuff and finished quicker than Will.

She glanced over as she grabbed her bag seeing Will just awkwardly standing there and smiled to herself, he was adorable.

Will smiled perking up as she walked over to him and they slowly started walking out of the target together.

“So kinder eggs?” She asked him softly as they got outside giggling as she asked and Will let out a small groan but smiled at her laughing.

“My friend loves them so i got them for him.” Will explained to her.

“That’s sweet.” She mused and raised an eyebrow seeing Will’s cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back his head, she would remember that hopefully for later.

“Uh can i have your number?” Will blurted out as they crossed the parking lot. He looked at her with a hopeful look that reminded her of a puppy.

“Sure.” She easily agreed and he handed her his phone, she quickly typed her number in handing it back.

“Enjoy the kinder eggs.” She teased softly as she turned away and started walking away.

Will just smiled goofily as he watched her walk away and immediately sent her a text.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Bunny bunny - Tom Riddle x reader -oneshot

requested by anon; (y/n) accidentally uses bunny hair in her polyjuice potion and gains bunny ears and a bunny tail. Tom cant keep his hands to himself.

fluff. just-fluff.

=

Tom stared in shock, hand instinctively raising to cover his mouth.

It was…mostly an accident, (y/n) was testing out the Polyjuice potion she’d made for the upcoming exam-she wanted to impress Slughorn, so she made one of the most difficult potions known to wizard kind, she’d successfully made the potion-but…

She had apparently NOT gotten human hair, meant to be Tom’s, oh no no no, she’d…uh-well…animal hair didn’t mix well with the Polyjuice potion, not in the slightest.

“Tom?” (y/n) squeaked out, looking down at herself in horror. Thankfully, she hadn’t spouted fur or freaky teeth, nor had her hands deformed into paws. No no, she had adorable floppy bunny ears and-oh merlin he had to check.

“Tom!” (y/n) gasped, turning red as he spun her around and flipped up her skirt, smirking as he saw a cute little bunny tail, right above her underwear-right where her tailbone was. “Tom!” she yelled again, smacking him away-flustered, embarrassed every emotion that dealt with-whatever was happening right now; covering her face with her hands-her ears moving with them.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry-I had to check,” Tom chuckled, biting his lip-he couldn't help it, they were alone anyway-he had no reputation to uphold and fucking hell she looked so cute. “you look-“

“Don’t. Say it.” (y/n) threatened, not looking threatening at all with her bunny ears, and her tail probably twitching in anger. Tom pressed his lips together, staring at her. “Tom.” She whined, stomping her foot-Tom inhaled deeply at the very action.

“Darling-I-“ Tom stumbled over his words, his hands twitching in front of his face-he couldn’t hold back. He took her into his arms-hands under her armpits so she couldn’t pull away as his hands went to her sweet floppy bunny ears. “Tooom!” (y/n) whined, struggling in his hold for a moment before giving up, pouting as he pet her ears with wide eyes-utterly adoring it.

he'd only touched a bunny once before, when he was young, hanging Billy’s pet rabbit from the rafters as revenge.

(y/n), was so much softer, fluffier-cuddlier. Tom made a short humming noise, pulling her closer, nuzzling his face into her ears-actually rubbing his face against them. “Tom.” (y/n) groaned, letting a low long sigh-letting him rub and pet her ears, it was kinda nice for him to be so affectionate anyway-he wasn’t as naturally affectionate in public so she’d enjoy it while she could.

Eventually-they had to separate. Or well, (y/n) made him let her go so she could bottle the potion for review the next day. Unfortunately, (y/n) also knew animal DNA in Polyjuice potion lasted longer than an hour-since it wasn’t MEANT to be mixed.

“let’s go to madam Tegner,” (y/n) sighed, pulling on her school robe and flipping up the hood-hiding her ears, Tom very much disappointed at the sight. Nevertheless, he followed her, eyes locked onto where her cute little tail was, just imagining it twitching under her skirt.

He wasn’t even thinking about it sexually, right now-his mind was only on how adorable his girl looked as some sort of bunny girl, with the soft fluffy bunny ears and the cute little bunny tail.

He really wanted to see her tail again.

Luckily for him, Madam Tegner informed (y/n) that the potion would wear off at the end of the month-much to (y/n)’s horror. “I'm going to have bunny ears for a MONTH?!” (y/n) cried out in distress, pulling on the ears-only to flinch since they were very real and attached to her head, and very sensitive.

He pulled her hands away from her ears, frowning gently. “what am I going to do! I can’t just-walk around with bunny ears for a month-I’ll-everyone will talk!” (y/n) cried out, clutching Tom’s hands and tugging on them instead-Tom preferring that over hurting herself.

“It’ll be okay darling, it's just ears-and no one can see your cute little tail,” Tom said, meaning to comfort her but also wanting to mention her adorable tail. It didn’t help, (y/n) glared up at him as he smirked back, shrugging unapologetically.

Quite unfortunately, the most madam Tegner could do was shrink the bunny ears just a bit but they were still very much there, so everyone would see her with floppy bunny ears-showing her failure to use Polyjuice potion properly. “This is awful,” (y/n) whined, tugging on her ears-yelping. “bloody-Merlins balls I keep forgetting that hurts,” (y/n) huffed, tugging up her hood to hide her ears as Tom walked with her back to the common room, his eyes glued to her, unable to hide his smile.

“Stop smiling! This isn’t funny!” (y/n) whined, looking at Tom over her shoulder, seeing his repressed smile. He only smiled more, reaching out and tapping her tail through her skirt, chuckling as she jumped. “Tom!”

“it’s adorable (y/n), perhaps it wont be so bad,” Tom said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her temple, pulling down her hood to see the cute bunny ears. “you do look very cute,”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, not caring about how cute she was-she was stuck as a bunny girl for a whole month!!! And had to walk around like this!!!

She felt Tom’s hand slip under the waistband of her skirt to pet her tail and she smacked him.

“Tom!”

-end-

[asterafroditis]

Hello! Would you mind writing a platonic India & reader fic in which idia and gn!reader were childhood friends, like practically attatched to the hip. But after ortho's incident, idia started shutting himself in his room, never getting out, and once reader found out what he was up to, they decided to help, so they worked on Ortho in his room daily but never really spoke if not for the basic necessities. And once Ortho was fully built and coded, they didn't really have a reason to be together anymore, and their relationship was awkward, so they stopped seeing each other. And once they're in night raven college in the same dorm, they have the first concrete conversation after years? Please?? I hope you're having a great day btw

𐔌 . ⋮ lost connection .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Platonic Idia Shroud x gn! reader

𓏵 1000 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 2nd Person POV, no pronouns used, angst, neutral ending

idk if you wanted hurt/no comfort or hurt/comfort so I kept it neutral, hope that's okay TT feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

You and Idia had been inseparable once.

Back then, he was a little awkward, a little quiet, but never distant. He’d talk your ear off about games, anime, or whatever niche interest had caught his attention that month, all with that rare excitement that made his eyes burn like embers. He never liked going outside, but with enough convincing, he’d do it—for you. And in return, you learned to love the things he loved, spending long hours at his side, backs pressed together as you battled through co-op campaigns or designed your own game concepts just for fun.

It had been easy. Comfortable.

Then, Ortho died.

And suddenly, Idia wasn’t there anymore.

At first, it was just messages left on ‘read,’ then excuses—sorry, not today, I’m busy, maybe later. Then nothing at all. You hadn’t even seen him at the funeral. It was like he had disappeared entirely.

You should’ve expected it. Idia had always been a shut-in at heart, but this was different. It wasn’t just him retreating into his room—it was him shutting the world out, locking himself behind doors no one else could open. He wasn’t even playing the games you used to play together. His account had been inactive for months.

So you went to him.

When you finally stepped into his room, the first thing you noticed was the smell—burnt wires, solder, metal shavings, something synthetic humming in the air. It was a mess, scattered with blueprints, disassembled parts, unfinished code flickering on multiple monitors. And in the center of it all, hunched over his desk with dark circles so deep they could’ve been bruises, was Idia.

He didn’t even look at you.

“You’re building him,” you had said. It wasn’t a question.

His fingers froze over his keyboard. Then, barely above a whisper:

“I have to.”

And that was that.

You could’ve said something then. You should have. You should have told him that this wasn’t healthy, that bringing Ortho back like this wouldn’t fix anything, that no matter how perfect he made him, it wouldn’t change the fact that Ortho had died. That Idia shouldn’t have to cope like this—isolated, barely eating, drowning himself in lines of code and artificial skin.

But you didn’t.

Because what else did he have?

So instead, you sat down beside him, grabbed a spare wrench, and started helping.

It became routine.

You spent nearly every day in his room, working with him in silence. It was strange, at first. You had never gone this long without actually talking to him, without hearing him ramble about stats or lore or how some company completely butchered an adaptation. Now, the only words you exchanged were functional—pass that to me, check the output, hand me the screwdriver. It was all just work.

And yet, you kept coming back.

Because someone had to make sure he was eating, that he was still sleeping (however little), that he didn’t completely disappear into this project and forget he was still alive. You could barely recognize him anymore—he never smiled, never laughed, never looked at anything but the machine in front of him.

Sometimes, you wanted to shake him, to scream this isn’t what Ortho would have wanted—but the words never came.

Because what if this was the only thing keeping him together?

What if, the moment you took it away from him, he shattered completely?

So you stayed.

And then one day, Ortho opened his eyes.

It was eerie, at first. He looked the same, sounded the same, even moved the same—but something was different.

Or maybe, something was missing.

Idia didn’t see it. Or if he did, he never let himself acknowledge it. He only looked at his brother with something you hadn’t seen in him in so long—relief. Like he had been holding his breath all this time and could finally breathe again.

You should have been happy for him.

But all you could feel was something cold sinking in your stomach.

Because your part was done now, wasn’t it? There was nothing left to fix, no more reason for you to be here. Idia had what he wanted.

So you left.

And he didn’t stop you.

Years later, you found yourself at Night Raven College.

You weren’t surprised when Idia ended up in Ignihyde—you knew he would. You had even known you’d be dormmates, though somehow, you never really ran into him. It wasn’t like he ever left his room. If he knew you were here, he never reached out.

And you weren’t sure if you wanted to be the first to break the silence.

So you ignored it.

Until now.

“…Why are you here?”

The voice was hesitant, muffled slightly by the door cracking open just enough for you to see his eyes—still burning, still wary.

You blinked. “I live here.”

A beat. Then, “…Oh.”

For a second, neither of you spoke. You wondered if he’d shut the door in your face, if you were supposed to pretend you hadn’t spent years knee-deep in grief together. If he even saw you the same way he used to.

Then, after what felt like forever, he muttered, “…You look different.”

You almost laughed. “So do you.”

Another pause. You could hear faint game sound effects in the background, the same ones you used to hear through his headphones all the time.

“…Do you want to come in?”

You hesitated.

You weren’t sure if stepping back into that room would pull you into something you had already left behind—if you were ready to face the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you.

But then again, hadn’t you already been carrying it this whole time?

So you stepped forward.

And the door closed behind you.